


On The Ropes

by 7aramBae



Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drug Use, Endgame, F/F, Illegal Fight Club
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 19:48:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 23,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28818780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/7aramBae/pseuds/7aramBae
Summary: With the five gyms ready to compete in the Empire, Bea is driven to lead H1 to glory. Allie, of the Hustle, complicates the path for Bea as they both come to terms with what it is they are fighting for.A Ballie AU.
Relationships: Allie Novak/Bea Smith, Franky Doyle/Bridget Westfall
Comments: 101
Kudos: 84





	1. A Gold Star For Effort

**Author's Note:**

> Gratitude, appreciation and inspiration is due to all the Wentworth fanfiction writers before me that have, unknowingly, encouraged my hand with writing. 
> 
> This body of work could not have taken its first breath without QueenBNYC's time, guidance and encouragement and certainly could not keep breathing without CongratulationsBaby's watchful eye and pondering mind. To them, I am eternally grateful.
> 
> Without further delay from yours truly, I present 'On the Ropes'.

“Remember to always keep on the move when throwing your jab,” Bea instructed the brunette teen while holding up a focus mitt. “And last one. Double jab, cross, hook. Roll then step out. Don't forget to keep your guard up.”

The sound of the succession of punches filled the training ring as Bea’s mitts met the incoming punches. “Very good!” she praised. The teen squatted down to catch her breath, exhausted from the day's workout, and looked up at Bea awaiting further instructions.

“Alright, I think that’s enough for today.” Bea dismissed the tired fighter with a soft pat on her shoulder. “Good work with your footwork just now and with keeping your guard up. I'm proud of you, Deb-” the name did not pass her lips. She shook her head as if to shake her thoughts. “Go hit the showers and get out of here, champ.”

Holding the removed gloves in the crook of her elbow, the dismissed teen exited the ring and passed Franky, who high fived her as she walked out of the locker room. As she made her way to Bea in the ring, she noticed Bea lost in her thoughts while removing her focus mitts.

Ever since Debbie’s passing, the H1 gym was open for the youths to come in and train with Bea every Saturday. The young brunette had been consistently showing up to train. Bea figured that if they had something to look forward to, something to occupy themselves with, they would be less likely to go looking for trouble as Debbie once had; if they were equipped with skills of self-defense, then maybe that confidence could be the difference between life and death.

“Hey, Red.”

Bea didn't register her presence. Franky moved her fingers in front of Bea’s face and snapped to catch her attention.

"Don't tell me you've been lost in your head thinking wanky thoughts about you and I, Red. Truly, I'm flattered.” She stepped up to the outer ring and faced Bea, leaning against the ropes and smirking. “But unfortunately for you, I'm happily taken.”

Bea rolled her eyes at the unwelcome intrusion. “Piss off, Franky. You know I'm not into that and certainly not into you.”

“Sure, sure!” Franky dragged out. “All you're into is slipping into your boxing gloves and giving that punching bag,” she gestured with her thumb, “a reaaal pounding, day in and day out. Ain't that right, Maxi?” She craned her head, looking for her. “Maxi?!” she shouted Maxine as she caught her heading towards the locker room who, in turn, warned her to leave Bea alone.

“Oh yeah? I'll give _your_ head a real pounding if you don't quit while you're ahead,” retorted Bea, throwing one mitt after the other at her while taking a menacing step. Franky dodged and immediately raised her hands in surrender.

“Alright, alright! Truce! Truce!"

Bea picked up the thrown mitts and exited the ring between the ropes and took a seat at the edge of the outer ring, setting the mitts next to her as she sighed. Franky hopped down to sit beside her and bumped her shoulder. “Okay. What's up with you?”

“Nothing.” She responded quickly, looking down. After a moment, she glanced at Franky, who was giving her the 'do you take me for a fool' expression with her eyebrows. “Fine. It’s just.. uh.. the young girl, she reminds me of Debbie. It's been years and I keep catching glimpses of her at random times. It's as if she's still here. With me, you know? I see her and I miss her and I can't help but feel guilty. I let Debbie down and I'll be damned if I let her down, too.”

As if on cue, the young brunette walked out of the locker room and made her way to the exit, passing in front of Bea and Franky. “See you next time, Coach Bea. Coach Franky,” she said as she gave a small wave. They both bid her farewell along with the reminder from Bea to keep shadow boxing as she walked out.

“Of course, she's still with you,” Franky resumed quietly. “She'll always be with you. In here,” she pointed to her temple. “And in here.” Then to her heart. “Don't beat yourself up, Red. You know she wouldn't want that for you. Hell, I don't want that for you."

She turned her body to directly face Bea. "Listen. You can’t change what has passed, I know that very well. But you can change what will by honoring what is and it's not some bullshit. I mean, look at us!” Bea lifted her head to look at her. “You and I would never be friends if all we had was that fight at the Empire ages ago. Sure, my ego and pride were bruised, battered and shattered, along with my face and body but you know what? I would go through it all again if it meant I would have you as my best friend, H1 as my home, fighting as my career, and Gidge as my girlfriend. It is hard, and maybe it never gets easier, but you and I,” she moved her index finger between them. “You and I will fight our demons one day at a time and one punch at a time. Gidge always says, ‘even the darkest of nights end with the rising of the sun’. And your sun is right there on the horizon. I'll see it for you if you can't just yet. It won't always be this painful."

“I guess.” Bea inhaled deeply for a few, long seconds then exhaled. She looked up to the ceiling trying to blink away unshed tears then wiped her eyes with the back of her hands.

“Now, come on!” Franky abruptly stood up, sensing the urgency of a mood change. She flicked Bea's ear, to which Bea immediately swatted her hand away. "You’ve gotten rusty so we've got some sparring to do.” She slid between the ropes to sit in the center of the ring. “Did you hear from the Empire yet? It's been pretty quiet on their end, no?”

“Sonia is definitely planning something big. I mean, she has to after that shit show with the Mitchell kid," Bea said as she stood up and walked over to the equipment locker next to the ring to grab two pairs of teal gloves and wraps, marked with the H1 logo. She entered the ring and tossed the gloves and wraps to Franky. “You know she's still in a coma?”

“Far out. Dragovich gave her quite the face makeover from what I remember and the brain pop of a lifetime”, she replied while wrapping her hand. “But you know, Dragovich nor the Empire can be blamed. It’s not like they ID for age verification or inquire about medical histories. It's a fight club. An illegal one at that. They both consented despite the obvious mismatch. A fight is a fight and Mitchell bit off way more than she could chew. Now I don't know if it's arrogance or wishful thinking, but what did she expect? A gold star for effort?”

Bea softly scoffed and shook her head. They both slipped their gloves onto wrapped hands. “But yeah, I did hear from Sonia earlier this morning,” Bea continued. “She said _Susan_ ,” she rolled her eyes as she said her full name, “is bound to show up in about..,” she peeked at the clock on the wall. “15 minutes.”

“Righto! Let's get started then. Ready to get whooped?” Franky winked at Bea and gave her a mocking air kiss, followed by a light jab which Bea swiftly parried away. They fell into a pattern of attacking and defending, blocking and parrying, creating openings and side stepping while both keeping their guards up at all times. It wasn't until Boomer walked in and loudly exclaimed, "I'm back bitches!" with both arms up that Franky was momentarily distracted and took her eyes off of Bea.

Bea, wasting no time, quickly landed a solid punch onto Franky's abdomen, effectively knocking the wind out of her and causing her to kneel.


	2. The Undertaker's Spawn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This body of work could not have taken its first breath without QueenBNYC's time, guidance and encouragement and certainly could not keep breathing without CongratulationsBaby's watchful eye and pondering mind. To them, I am eternally grateful.

“What did you expect? A gold star for effort?”

Bea threw Franky’s words back at her with a wink. Franky raised her glove in an attempt to give her the middle finger as she tried to catch her breath. Bea exited the ring between the ropes and took off her gloves to greet Boomer with a fist bump. 

“Hey, Booms. Welcome back to H1,” she said as she released her red, curly hair from her ponytail, finger combing through it and then taming the curls once again. 

“Oh, come here, you big goof!” Franky exited the ring and walked with arms outstretched towards Boomer and proceeded to give her a hug. Boomer picked her up easily and gave her a bear squeeze as Bea called Maxine from the locker room for an impromptu meeting. 

“Okay, okay, Booms! Easy.” Franky's feet landed on the floor. “What's this?” Franky exclaimed excitedly, pointing to Boomer's outfit. “Who are you? The Undertaker's spawn?”

“Who?”

Boomer looked down at her long black leather coat, matched with a black shirt, pants and combat boots complimented with a large gold chain on her neck. “Oh! Nah, just me advance cut from Sonia. We in the big leagues now! I have to look the part, don't I? Gotta look all tough and serious cause we mean business.” 

“And you certainly do, Booms!” Maxine walked up to the group and hugged Boomer. “It's been awhile! How have you been?”

“Maxi, hey!” Boomer smiled wide at the sight of her longtime confidant. “Yeah, I'm good! Really good! Sonia's been giving me plenty to do around the Empire. I'm a proper manager now, second in command. Them bitches answer to me now, not you bitches, I mean-”, she quickly covered her mouth with her hand when she saw Bea's unimpressed raised eyebrow. “Nah, good good! Really good.” 

She smiled sheepishly at Bea. 

“Oh, yeah! Sonia sent me to give you her regards and to tell you that the opener is tonight, no fighting yet but just announcements of minor changes that everyone needs to hear or else they can't fight. The Empire is still the best place to win big bucks, loud fame and the greatest glory all because the coppers don't know shit! She also said it's the best time to check out the competition, see who you could be bashing.” She paused and squinted an eye, trying to remember if she left anything out. “Oh! Tonight after sunset at the warehouse on St. Kilda's, I forgot that part. There are plenty of new and old faces so you’ll be right at home. So yeah, see you all tonight?”

The members of H1 all nodded and told Boomer that they'll be there and ready. Boomer said her goodbyes and walked out of H1 after telling them to take it easy. 

“How are we all feeling about tonight, ladies?” Maxine inquired. 

“I’m feeling so pumped to show off these guns!” Franky flexed her biceps and gave each a quick kiss. “They've been hidden for too long. Oh! That reminds me, I need to give Gidge a call and let her know about tonight. I’m sure she would appreciate knowing what we could potentially be up against.” Franky’s eyes mischievously twinkled. “After all the working out I've done, I think I've earned to be up against her, if you know what I mean.” She waggled her eyebrows as she backtracked to get her phone from the locker room. 

“Gross, Franky." Bea grimaced as she turned to Maxine. “Anyway, I think it's time we let the Empire know who runs the fighting scene.”

  
  



	3. The Empire Welcomes You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This body of work could not have taken its first breath without QueenBNYC's time, guidance and encouragement and certainly could not keep breathing without CongratulationsBaby's watchful eye and pondering mind. To them, I am eternally grateful.

As soon as the sun had started to set, Franky and Bridget picked Maxine up in Franky’s jeep and made their way to the Empire. Bea had agreed to meet them inside as she had a few errands to run before heading over. By the time Bea arrived, a single strand of sunlight was separating night from day. She pulled up her motorcycle at the nearest parking spot, turned off the ignition and stored her helmet in the bike’s helmet compartment. She spotted the Empire's entrance and observed the flow of people walking in. Just as she was about to cross the street, a police car cruised by. _That’s unusual_ , she thought. From the outside, the warehouse looked like the average building, but from the inside, it was spacious enough to hold an indoor concert. 

Bea walked to the entrance and saw Boomer guarding the door. Relishing her authority, Boomer was trying to see if she could spot any suspicious looking persons in the incoming flow of people by randomly stopping some and arbitrarily giving the green light to others by solemnly nodding her head.

“How’s it looking so far, Boomer?” Bea inquired, standing in front of her.

“Hey, Bea. It’s a great turn out for just the opener! I'm sure we will be expecting a lot more people as news travels through protected channels.” She said distractedly, with her eyes tracking the people passing in front of her like the reset of a typewriter.

“Speaking of protection, why did I see a police car patrolling around here?” 

“Oh yeah, they belong to Sonia! They’re not actual police, you know. They just really look like them. It’s to throw the real coppers off our scent, that’s what Sonia said. Brilliant, isn't it?” Boomer chuckled to herself. "Clever Sonia, always with the tricks. Something about smoking in mirrors."

Bea was about to respond when a heated conversation behind them caught her attention. She turned around and saw a lean, blue-eyed blonde arguing with a tall, medium build brunette; what about, she couldn't discern. Suddenly, the brunette grabbed a fistful of the blonde’s hoodie and the blonde shouted, “oh, fuck off, Drago!” Bea walked up to the woman she assumed to be Drago and gave her a firm shove. 

“Didn't you hear? She said fuck off. So fuck off.” Drago turned to face Bea and gave her a shove back. 

“What are you going to do about it?” she snarled, sizing Bea up. 

“I'll bash your head in if I have to.” Bea threatened, clenching her fists by her sides, ready for any sudden movement. 

“Oi, oi, oi! I'll block you both from entering if you keep this up. If you want to fight it out, take it elsewhere,” came Boomer’s voice of reason. “In you go, Drago. Move yourself along." Drago walked away while muttering a "fuck you” under her breath while Bea shot daggers at her back with her eyes. 

“She’s a real work of art, isn't she?” Bea asked the blonde, scoffing. “You good?” She turned to look away from Drago’s retreating form and into piercing blue eyes; Bea felt as though she could swim in them. The blonde looked unimpressed.

“I'm perfectly peachy," she said, refixing her hoodie. "You really didn't have to do that, you know. It’s not like I couldn't have handled her on my own,” she argued angrily, furrowing her eyebrows. “I'm not a damsel in distress that needs a hero-" 

Bea held her hands up in appeasement. “No, no, no. You’re right. My bad. I apologize for causing a scene.” 

She stuffed her hands in the pockets of her leather jacket and walked into the Empire to find where H1 was seated. Entering the main space, Bea looked around to find that there were two rows of ringside seats along each side of the centered ring, which were provided solely for all the rival gym fighters. The rest of the space behind the seats were for the fans of the Empire to gather. She spotted Franky and headed over knowing the rest of them were seated together. 

“Bea! You sure took your time. What kept you? A secret rendezvous with a lover?” Franky started. 

“Franky.” Bridget warned and gave her a look. 

“What, Gidge? I'm just reminding her about the concept of a love life!” she defended herself. “Or her lack thereof.” 

Bea punched Franky’s shoulder. “I can hear you, Franky.” 

“Ouch! See?! This is why you don't date! You're too aggressive!"

“And you're too insistent! Bridget is most likely with you right now just to shut you up.”

Franky turned to Bridget. “Is that true?” to which Bridget cooed with “no baby, no”, before frantically nodding her head when Franky turned to face Bea. Maxine chuckled to herself at their silly antics. “Anyway, I'm sure Gidge can think of other ways to shut me up.” 

It was Bridget’s turn to punch Franky’s other shoulder. 

“Ouch! What is this? National hit Franky day?” Bridget leaned in and whispered in Franky’s ear and just like that, Franky was pacified. 

As Bea looked around waiting for the night to start, her eyes gravitated to the same blue eyed blonde from earlier. She, alongside Drago, Tina Mercado, and Marie Winter, were sitting adjacent to H1. The blonde had her arms crossed to her chest as she scanned the venue. As if triggering her sixth sense, she caught Bea's gaze and Bea promptly looked away. 

A crackle from the PA box preceded Sonia's booming voice through the speaker, which earned an exasperated “finally” from Franky. 

“Ladies, gentlemen, and gentlepersons, the Empire welcomes you! This is it! This is the event that you all have been waiting for. Last year’s rumble consisted of fighters fighting for individual fame, notoriety and glory. The champion, Joan Ferguson, has since retired. But _this_ year, this year we bring you the ultimate showdown: the battle of the gymnasiums! Found within the Empire tonight are five of the finest establishments this city has to offer: The Matriarchy led by Jacs Holt; Konquest led by Vicky Kosta; The Red Right Hand led by Kaz Proctor; The Hustle led by Marie Winter; and last but not least, H1 led by Bea Smith."

The audience cheered loudly in excitement. 

“The rules are simple. Three fighters from each gym will be entered in a random lottery that will determine fight match ups moving forward. Up to the start of each fight, audience and gym members alike can bet on victors and losers, but not both. There is a panic button, but only available to me. A death on the ring is _not_ a reason to panic and neither is a medical emergency.” 

Sonia cleared her throat. 

“Furthermore, the following rules are exclusive to fighters. One: the fight is over when someone says ‘stop’, taps out, or goes limp. Two: there will only be two fighters at a time in the ring. In the case of a third fighter, the intruder will automatically disqualify themselves and the fighter that they come to their aid. And three: there is no time limit on these fights. Do with that information as you see fit.”

Boomer’s muffled voice distracted Sonia from her announcement. The short, muted conversation abruptly ended when Sonia’s voice returned. 

“And the final two rules regarding security concerns and these _obviously_ ought to go without mention. One: you do not talk about the Empire. Two: you **do not** talk about the Empire. Why? Because the Empire will know and because the Empire is listening. That is all." 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An update will be released on every prime day until further notice. -7B


	4. It's a Deal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This body of work could not have taken its first breath without QueenBNYC's time, guidance and encouragement and certainly could not keep breathing without CongratulationsBaby's watchful eye and clever mind. To them, I am eternally grateful.

_ 9:01 pm  _

_ From Sonia:  _

_ Subjects of the Empire, you have been summoned. Tomorrow after dusk, the Empire will see both new rising stars and falling meteors. The matches available are as follows:  _

_ Franky Doyle of H1 versus Kim Chang of the Matriarchy  _

_ Simmo Slater of the Matriarchy versus Stella Radic of Konquest.  _

_ Remember, the betting cut-off is right before the start of the fight. Get your bets in and let’s make some money.  _

_ 9:02pm _

_ From Sonia:  _

_ Location pin. _

“Hey, Franky, I wouldn’t finish that drink if I were you,” Bea held out her phone to Franky and Bridget across the table of the booth. Franky grabbed the phone and brought it closer to her face. Bridget peered over Franky’s shoulder, then took her own drink and finished it.

“Oh fuck,” Franky slurred slightly, handing the phone back. “I’m good, Bea. I'm as sober as a judge. Look, I can walk in a straight line.” She stood up and proceeded to slowly walk her two fingers from her side to Bea and Maxine’s side of the booth table. Bea’s eyes followed Franky’s walking fingers, then looked at her incredulously. She turned her head to Maxine, who was trying to stifle a laugh with her hand. 

“Unbelievable,” Bea uttered, shaking her head in disbelief as Franky sat down again. “And this is you on how many drinks?” 

“Three.” Franky confidently replied with a quick, loose nod and was contradicted by Bridget’s silent fanning of four fingers. Bridget reached out to grab Franky’s unfinished drink and knocked it back, then slid an arm around Franky’s waist, leaning into her.

“Sober as a judge? Sober as a drunk, more like. I'm going to get our village lightweight here a pitcher of water and you’d better finish it,” Bea explained sternly, looking at Franky -- who was muttering about not being a village lightweight -- before getting up and making her way to the pub counter. 

While waiting for the bartender to return, Bea leaned her hip against the counter and looked around the Bennett. The Bennett was their usual go-to place; close to H1, but not too far from the Empire. It was frequented by enough people for the place to feel busy but not enough for it to feel overwhelming and crowded. That suited H1, and Bea, perfectly. As the bartender handed Bea a pitcher of water and tall cups, she handed him a few bills to cover their expenses and walked back to their booth. From the corner of her eye, she thought she caught a glimpse of a familiar blonde, but after doing a double take, she rationalized it to her mind playing tricks. 

Bea set the pitcher and cups on the table as she sat back down again. Maxine reached out and poured water for Franky and Bridget. She set the pitcher down then slid the cups towards them. 

“Both of you, drink.” Bea instructed. Franky groaned and then chugged her water. Bridget took a few sips. 

“Happy?” Franky asked, sloppily wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. 

“Not quite,” Bea refilled Franky’s cup to the brink and gestured with her head towards the cup. “Drink.” 

Franky huffed and whined. “What about Gidge?” 

“She’s not the one fighting tomorrow. Drink.” 

Deciding to just get it over and done with, Franky chugged her water once again and shook the cup in Bea’s face before plonking it onto the table. 

“One more thing,” Bea warned. “I expect no... funny business from you. Celebrate how you wish after the fight, but certainly not before.  _ You _ , especially, need all the edge you can get.”

Franky raised her middle finger then kissed Bridget on the cheek and whispered, “Sorry, babe. Boss’s orders.” Lifting her hand to screen the side of her face from Bea, Franky gave Bridget an exaggerated wink and mouthed,  _ “loophole” _ . Bea looked at Franky with a questioning eyebrow.

“Well then, in that case, we’d best be off!” Franky started saying as she got up. “You know, get our beauty sleep and nurse this fading hangover.” She began patting her pockets looking for her car keys. 

“What keys are you looking for, Franky? We came in my car.” Maxine explained, chuckling as Bea reached for the pitcher once again. 

“No, no, no! No more water. I'll drink more once we get back!” Franky exclaimed, making an ‘x’ with her arms. “Can you give us a ride home, Maxi?” 

“Yeah, I can do that. Are you coming with, Bea?” Maxine looked at Bea. 

“I think I'll stay here for a bit longer then walk home. I’m not too eager to return to a silent apartment just yet”, she replied, standing up to make way for Maxine before sitting back down again. 

The gang bade Bea good night and walked out of the pub together with Maxine leading the way. Bea looked over her shoulder at an entangled Franky and Bridget, then leaned back into her seat and sighed, letting thoughts of Debbie, the Empire and her state of mind consume her.

\-------

How long she had been sat, lost in her thoughts, Bea didn't know, when suddenly a voice startled her out of her self-induced trance. 

“I thought that might’ve been you earlier,” Bea’s head snapped up to the intruding voice. “Curly, fiery hair like yours is hard to ignore.” 

Realizing the voice belonged to the same blonde that reprimanded her intervention at the Empire entrance, Bea quickly sat up and tried to say something,  _ anything _ ; she was effectively tongue-tied in the blonde’s presence. 

“I'm sorry if I startled you. I was hoping to see you again and as luck would have it, here you are! Thank you, universe!” The blonde said, looking up at nowhere in particular. She smiled at Bea as Bea looked at her, slightly confused. She extended her hand, “Im Allie Novak.” 

“Bea Smith.” Shaking her hand, Bea became aware of the warmth that travelled from Allie’s palm, through her fingers, up her arm before taking refuge in her chest. 

“Ah! Bea Smith of H1 herself,” Allie exclaimed, smiling. “Listen, about last time, I realized I didn't once thank you. You just caught me in a bad mood, and that’s not an excuse, I know, but I want to make it right. Please, let me buy you a drink as both a thank you and as an apology.” 

“You really don't have to-,”

“No, no, I insist.” Allie interrupted. “What would you like?”

Bea yielded and smiled softly. “A ginger ale would be nice.” 

“You don't drink?” Bea shook her head. “Mind if I do?” 

“Not at all.” 

“Okay, I’ll be right back.” 

Allie turned around and walked to the bar, with Bea’s eyes following her every step of the way. As she was waiting for their drinks, Allie looked back and caught Bea’s line of sight. She gave her a wink, to which Bea quickly looked anywhere else, embarrassed at being caught. After a moment, she walked back, holding the drinks, before setting Bea’s ginger ale in front of her and sitting down with her beer opposite Bea. 

“Thank you, Allie,” Bea smiled and took a sip. “So, what was up with you and Drago? She didn't look too happy.” 

Rolling her eyes, Allie groaned. “She may be the Hustle’s strongest fighter, but that woman is beyond paranoid and sensitive. She thinks I stole something that belongs to her, which I  _ didn't _ , by the way, and now she won’t let up. I know better than to go near her and her things. She misplaces anything and suddenly, I'm her prime suspect. If I say or don't say anything, she reads into it and the next thing you know, I'm the one acting suspicious. There is no way to make her happy.” She took a swig of her beer. “Anyway, Drago is the least of my concerns. The more important question is: why was there a beautiful woman sitting here on her own?” 

Bea felt her cheeks begin to burn. “I’m not-, I mean, I wasn’t on my own.” She took a sip of her drink to try to regain her composure. “My friends were here, but they had to leave since Franky, who’s fighting tomorrow, was on a roll when we got Sonia’s text.” 

“I saw that! Franky of H1 against Kim Chang of the Matriarchy.” Allie put her elbows on the table and leaned closer. “Between you and me, I hope Franky wins. Kim Chang is too cocky for her own good.”

Bea chuckled. “Then it seems Franky has met her match. Her ego is already too big for this building.” She took another sip as they fell into a comfortable silence. “So, how long have you been fighting for?” 

Allie leaned back and breathed out. “Short answer or long answer?” 

“Long answer. I've got nowhere to be.” 

“Truth be told, I’ve never _ not _ been fighting.” She took a large swig of her beer and set it down, before pausing and taking another gulp. “In school, I was far from the perfect student. If anyone looked at me funny, I made sure they knew I didn't appreciate it: teachers, schoolmates, friends. You name it, I fought it. I fought with my parents when I came out, fought when they kicked me out, and fought some more when I landed on the streets. It’s always been me, my fists, and my fury. I was just angry at the world and at myself.”

She started absentmindedly peeling the corner of the label of the beer bottle. “I started fighting seriously in fight rings here and there until Marie scouted me and invited me to be part of the Hustle. That’s when it all started to change. She took all this unguided energy and focused it, and now I have a place to train and when I win, I get a hefty pay out. It’s a sense of security in a ruthless fighting scene, so in a way I owe Marie for the fighter I am today.” Allie shrugged her shoulders and smiled a sad smile. 

Bea instinctively reached out and covered Allie’s hand with her own. The warm feeling burrowed deeper into her chest. “Shit, Allie. I’m really sorry you had to go through that, alone of all things. I know my words won't do justice to what you've felt but I  _ am _ sorry you had to go through that.”

“Thanks, Bea.” Allie exhaled a shaky breath. “I really didn't intend to lay all that on you but the truth felt right.” She paused. “What about you? Why do you fight in the Empire?”

Bea realized her hand was still covering Allie’s and she retracted it, instantly missing and craving the warmth. She pursed her lips in thought. 

“For fun.” 

Allie deadpanned. “You mean to say you risk pain for fun?” She reached her hand out and gently caressed Bea’s face, before quietly quipping, “are you sure the strikes to your head have not left you permanently concussed?” 

Unaccustomed to such gentleness, Bea took comfort in Allie’s touch before she absorbed the meaning of her words and laughed softly. “Well, when you put it like that, you make me sound like a mad woman.”

Allie withdrew her hand, and finished her beer. Bea mirrored the movement with her own drink, “No,” Bea softly shook her head, continuing, “No, it's not like that.”

“Tell me,” Allie said softly.

“It’s like,” Bea leaned in with elbows on the table and spoke as if revealing a secret, “it’s like outside the ring, life is loud, relentless, and chaotic. But inside the ring, none of it matters. There is only one objective: survive. Outsmart or be outsmarted.” Resting her face in her hands, she reflected, “there are these moments of clarity when my mind and body align that I don't find anywhere else and I  _ fight _ for it. And when the risk is high, it’s only then that I know what it is I am capable of,” Bea nodded to herself, as if satisfied by the flow of words she produced. “But that’s just me.” 

Allie leaned back in her seat and looked at Bea for a long moment, searching within her brown eyes for everything they have absorbed in Bea’s lifetime. “So you know pain, too.” 

Bea shrugged and looked down at the empty bottle between her hands. “You could say that.”

Noticing that the silence had become deafening, Allie looked around the pub to find that it was empty of people with the exception of herself, Bea, and the bartender. She looked at the clock on the wall, saw that it was reaching midnight, and gasped.

“Bea! It’s so late. Wow, I didn't even feel the time pass. You must have someone worried about you,” Allie inquired.

Bea sullenly shook her head. “We should get going,” she echoed. “The place looks like it wants to close up.” 

They both got up and started walking side by side to the exit, slowing their steps as much as reasonably possible until they reached the open air. 

“You know, Bea, I’ve always wanted to branch out as a fighter. At some point, the pure aggression in how I fight just doesn't cut it anymore. I feel I’ve lost the element of surprise and now it’s become,” Allie trailed off, searching for the right words, “a bad habit.” 

“Why don't you come down to H1 for a sparring session?” Bea offered automatically. “I think we can work out a few tricks to jumpstart the element of surprise.” 

“And if it turns out that I’ll be fighting you in the Empire? You know I won't hesitate to use what I’ll learn against you.” 

“Then it’ll be a better fight for the both of us.” 

Allie smiled as she faced Bea.

“Okay. It’s a deal.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Rating has been raised to explicit. Next update is on the 29th. -7B


	5. Not Taking Any Chances

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's alive! It's aliiiive! This body of work certainly could not keep breathing without CongratulationsBaby's watchful eye. I am indebted.

“You’re almost done, Bea. You’ll have a quick break after these last two reps, then you’ve got your last set. Make them count.” 

Spotting Bea at the bench press, Maxine stood behind her with hands at the ready under the metal bar to provide assistance should Bea’s arms decide to give out under the heavy load. Despite getting back late the previous night, Bea found herself waking up early with a newfound, almost nervous energy. She decided to squeeze in an early morning workout to deal with that extra energy. With her head resting on the bench, feet planted firmly on the ground and lower back slightly arched, Bea exhaled hard as she guided the barbell upwards. The sweat dripped down her neck and onto her darkening teal tank. 

Pushing through the burn in her arms and chest with total focus, Bea didn't see the newcomer walk into H1 until Maxine leaned down to her ear-level and whispered, “look who’s here”. With the bar pressed to her chest, Bea glanced to her right to see Allie wearing a black training suit and carrying a gym duffel bag over her shoulder. From her sideways perspective, Allie smiled at her with a tilt of her head and waved.

"Last one and last set," she uttered quietly to Maxine through clenched teeth as she began the last rep, summoning her every last bit of sheer will. Maxine took the barbell out of Bea’s hands, relieving her tired arms, and set it back in the rack above Bea’s head.

Bea sat up, shaking out her arms while turning to look at Allie, who started approaching them, fully amused by the sight before her. 

"Allie, hey. Welcome to H1!" Pleased to see Allie so soon, Bea felt her nerves from the morning return with full force. A moment passed as she appreciated Allie’s presence then she remembered to introduce Maxine. "Oh! This is Maxine Conway, one of the greatest fighters, training partners and spotters around." Bea pulled on her waist-clipped towel and wiped off the sweat that was threatening to fall into her eyes from her forehead.

"Nice to meet you! I'm Allie Novak,” Allie smiled, extending her hand to Maxine, who formally reciprocated the pleasantry. 

"So Allie, what can we do for you today?" Maxine asked, taking note of the duffel bag over her shoulder. 

"Well, you see, last night Bea and I got to talking and she kindly offered to help me refine the element of surprise by trying her luck against me," she winked at Bea, who, in response, shook her head and rolled her eyes with a playful smile.

"Is that right? Looks like our Bea here is certainly _full_ of surprises! Last night, this night and every night," Maxine quipped, narrowing her eyes at Bea and giving her a pointed look as if to say _‘what else haven't you told me?’_. 

"Hey Allie, why don't you go into the locker room and get changed while I go upstairs, rinse off, and change clothes so we can get started?" Bea interjected casually, picking up on the look Maxine was giving her.

"Yeah, righto. This way?" Allie pointed towards the door of the locker room as she started to step towards it, looking back at them for confirmation. Maxine nodded then sharply pivoted to face Bea when Allie was out of range. 

"Well, well, Bea! You sure like to keep your cards close to your chest. It's a good thing I'm here and not Franky, otherwise you'd never hear the end of it."

"I really don't know what you mean, Maxi. Allie and I, we’re just… friends," Bea replied nonchalantly, getting up and throwing her towel over her shoulder. Maxine crossed her arms.

"Didnt I see Allie the other night at the Empire, sitting with the Hustle of all people?” Maxine looked at the door of the locker room and lowered her voice just to be safe. “You don't think she's here to spy, do you?" 

"So what if she is?” challenged Bea, placing her hands on her hips. “If she learns something about me and I learn something about her, then we're back to where we started, right?” She raised her eyebrows, searching for Maxine’s affirmation. “After all, it’s like the saying goes, _'keep your friends close, but your enemies closer.'_ " Bea tapped her temple twice and shrugged. "This way, everyone wins." 

"Okay, so she's an enemy now?" Maxine questioned her, not buying Bea’s reasoning. Bea paused, realizing her inconsistency towards Allie.

"She's an opening to a threat and I'm not taking any chances."

\-------

By the time Bea had run up to her apartment, freshened up, put on a clean, red sports bra and teal boxing shorts, and came back down again, Allie had been sitting by the edge of the ring, with elbows out resting along the ropes and head leaning back. She was wearing a black sports bra and white boxing shorts with black tights underneath. Golden grappling gloves laid neatly beside her and her hands were already wrapped. The sound of Bea rushing down the backstairs and opening the backdoor to H1 caught Allie’s attention. 

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Bea apologized, rushing in and opening the equipment locker nearby. She pulled out her gloves and fresh wraps, and dashed to sit besides Allie at the edge. 

“Were you waiting long?” She began wrapping her right hand as quickly as she could.

“Not long at all. Maxine asked me to tell you that she went out to go see about Franky. Looks like it’s just you and me.” Allie bumped Bea’s shoulder with her own. 

“Looks like!” Bea replied without taking her eyes off of her hands.

“So, you live here around here?” 

“Yeah, just upstairs,” she nodded upwards as she began wrapping the left hand. “As H1’s guardian, I take my job very seriously. At any moment’s notice, I descend like-”

“-like an angel.” Allie chuckled at the fitting description, recalling how Bea instantly appeared to help her with Drago. “Let’s hope you’re not going to need an angel to help you when you're up against these beauties.” She quickly threw the classic combo of jab, cross, hook into the air and grinned at Bea.

Bea laughed at her silliness. “And let’s hope that you’re not all talk, Novak. Otherwise, my angel remains out of a job," Bea retorted with a self-assured shrug. "Get yourself in the ring,” Bea nodded towards the ring as she grabbed her gloves and rolled in under the ropes. Allie grabbed her gloves and followed suit. They both started putting on their gloves, stealing brief glances at each other. 

“And in this corner,” Allie began confidently self-announcing, “coming in hot with her golden fists of fury, fresh from the corner of the street, the _magnificent_ , the _marvelous_ , the _wondrous_ Allie Novak!” She brought her gloves close to her mouth and began to imitate the cheer of a crowd, oscillating left and right.

Bea laughed for the second time that day. The frequency in which Allie made her laugh or smile in such a short period of time did not go amiss. She shook her head at Allie, a smile overtaking her lips once again. 

“You sure you don't want to hang the gloves and give MCing a try?” Bea cheekily asked.

“Why? Impressed?" Allie raised an eyebrow in jest.

" _Very."_

"Hmm," Allie looked up in faux thought, skewering her lips. "Maybe in another lifetime,” she winked then continued. “And in _that_ corner, rocking the teal shorts –yeah, I see you!– Rising from the ashes with flaming locks, the _fiery,_ the _stunning,_ and certainly the _most beautiful superstar_ , Bea Smith!” She raised a glove to her ear, waiting to hear the roar of the imaginary crowd. 

Allie paused.

“Sorry, Bea!" She teasingly pouted, "Sounds like no cheer for you.” 

“Oh, alright, alright. I see how it is.”

Setting play aside, Bea walked closer to the center and raised her gloves to her face. Allie met her halfway and mirrored, trying to size her up with a smoldering look. 

“You ready?” 

“Only if you are,” Allie extended her glove to Bea in response. Bea tapped her glove then quickly took a step back. 

And their dance began.

Using her height and arm length to her advantage, Allie tested Bea’s defenses with mild jabs; Bea easily blocked. In order for Bea to throw effective punches, she had to close the distance, which ran counter to her defensive preference. Eager to see how Bea’s agility, Allie took a step forward and threw a quick jab and a cross. Bea double slipped, deftly moving her head left and right so that Allie’s punches met air.

For every offensive action initiated by Allie, there was a quick defensive response by Bea. Bea swiftly jabbed twice at Allie’s head but Allie met the jabs halfway, effectively negating them. As Allie extended her left arm out for a jab, Bea anticipated her move and landed a preemptive jab and a body shot. Despite favoring a defensive approach, Bea packed concentrated power in her punches. 

Allie understood that as soon as the distance risked being closed, Bea would react with a quick offensive to force Allie to retreat. It wasn't until Allie threw a wide hook that Bea spotted a countering opportunity, instantaneously bobbing under Allie’s arm and striking her core. Allie took a few steps back to recover her stolen breath then looked at Bea with a growing fire in her eyes. 

Distance be damned. Allie pressed Bea backwards by throwing a flurry of double jabs and crosses, forcing her to keep her guard up and retreat at the same time but never relenting. Though Bea wasn't able to evade the punches, she was able to absorb them by raising her shoulders to her ears and gloves to cage her head. Bea was losing the distance advantage and needed to get out of the line of offense; Allie pushed her on the ropes of the ring. Desperate for an opening, Bea waited for Allie’s inevitable hook to roll out and pivot so that she faced Allie’s unprotected side. Bea landed two solid body shots onto a turning Allie, who lowered her elbows to lessen the efficacy of Bea’s shots, but Bea moved with the speed of a double blink. 

Allie realized her mistake; Bea would absorb as much damage as she needed to as she waited for the perfect moment to escape and strike. Crafting an impromptu plan, Allie decided to keep the distance that Bea critically relied on.

It was Bea’s turn to lead. She locked eyes with Allie, trying to predict her next move as focused brown met calculating blue. So far, Allie had shown a preference to break down her defense through overwhelming, incessant offensives that led to forced retreats. Allie circled her around, buying time but Bea had other plans. She quickly stepped in towards Allie, striked hard and stepped out just as fast as she stepped in. Bea had Allie outmatched in speed, with her shorter frame allowing for such nimbleness. While Allie couldn't compete with Bea’s speed standing up, she certainly could on the ground. 

As Bea was preparing to repeat her viper-like offensive, Allie crouched so that when Bea’s punches flew her way, she would be ready to effectively counter. As Bea moved in to strike, Allie lunged forward and threw her arms around Bea’s waist, taking her down to the floor. Wasting no time, Allie fluidly moved to straddled Bea and hooked her legs around Bea’s thigh to prevent a buck. Holding both of Bea’s arms to the ground, Allie smiled over her in a victorious submission. 

“Checkmate.” 

“Wrong sport, Allie,” Bea huffed, not anticipating a takedown from Allie. Bea immediately began to process the outcome of their sparring session, criticizing herself for not seeing the takedown coming. It turned out that Allie, herself, was the element of surprise. 

The frequent up and down, mesmerizing movements of Bea’s chest caught Allie’s attention as they tried to catch their breath. As if seeing Bea in a new yet strangely familiar light, Allie slowly trailed her eyes up Bea's collarbones, defined jaw, parted pink lips, and reddened cheeks until she settled within deep brown orbs, silently knocking on the windows to her soul. Now realizing the intimacy of their position, Bea looked up into blue eyes and found a clarity that sent alarms through her mind. 

Bea shivered as an electric tingle started in the pit of her stomach and flowed all throughout her body, growing in intensity from everywhere that Allie’s skin kissed hers. Bea tried to even her breathing but found herself unusually out of breath. She saw Allie’s eyes impulsively dart down to her lips then back to her eyes again. Panic rode comfortably atop her thrashing heart as her body operated with a mind of its own. In that moment, Bea was both desperate to remain where she was _and_ to get out from under Allie as fast as possible. 

“Bea, I know how-” 

“I'm not,” Bea cut her off with wide, fearful eyes. She paused, struggling to say the word. She felt absurd. _She_ wasn't _gay_. 

“I'm not gay,” Bea declared weakly to Allie. 

Uttering the words did not reverse the eruption within. 

"I'm not gay," Bea repeated to herself. 

Understanding Bea's unspoken fear, Allie unpinned her arms and moved to sit beside her with legs crossed. Bea laid frozen on the ground, looking up only at the ceiling; she was unwilling to move and face Allie. 

“Bea, listen to me. I don't care _what_ you are. I just care about _you_.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This chapter's soundtrack is sponsored by Hozier. I recommend three songs if you'd like to entertain me (and perhaps, yourselves): Movement, Sunlight*, and Talk. 
> 
> Next update is on the 31st. Thank you for reading! Your thoughts and comments are always appreciated. 
> 
> -7B


	6. This Beast Inside Pt. I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This body of work certainly could not keep breathing without CongratulationsBaby's watchful eye. I am indebted. And to the readers, you are the supply of pure oxygen. 
> 
> An early release to make up for the late release. Enjoy the last prime day of January!
> 
> Fridgeteers, this one was written with you in mind. B-babes, fret not.

“Bea, are you okay?” Allie’s voice echoed in the ring. 

The lights around the ring were all off except for the light that illuminated Bea’s face and the top of Allie’s head. Allie’s knees were pressed tightly along the sides of Bea’s waist as she straddled her. She reached her hand out and gently stroked Bea’s cheek with her thumb as Bea looked at her with nervous yet wanting brown eyes. 

“Relax, Bea. I’ve got you,” Allie smiled softly at her. “Don’t you feel it like I do?” 

She leaned over and into her so that her lips softly tickled Bea’s earlobe. “I can give you what you need,” she whispered. Soft fingertips slowly started moving from the band of Bea’s sports bra and trailed down her defined abdomen, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Bea became aware of her heart beating fast. She moved her hands and placed them on Allie’s, holding them in place. 

“I’ve never done this before,” she quietly admitted. 

“Never been with someone or never let your heart feel?” Allie quietly replied as she searched her eyes. She guided their hands to Bea’s chest, resting it on her frantically beating heart with Allie’s hand on top. “Don’t overthink. Just _feel_.” 

Allie softly pressed her lips to Bea’s cheek, lingering for a moment. She leaned back and withdrew her hand. The moment Allie’s hand parted away from Bea’s chest, a vibration violently buzzed in protest. 

Bea’s eyes sprung open. She blinked a few times, then tilted her chin down; the source of the vibration was coming from her phone lying on her chest. Looking around, she realized she had fallen asleep on the couch. Her phone continued buzzing. She grabbed it, sat herself up, looked at the caller ID and answered. 

“Finally, Red! Where the hell have you been?” Franky asked exasperatedly. Bea looked towards her window and saw that the sun had begun its descent to the horizon. She wiped her face with her free hand. 

“Shit. Sorry, Franky. I only meant to rest my lashes for a few seconds, but I fell asleep. What time is it?” She pulled her phone back from her ear to look at the time at the top of the screen. 

“Almost time for my fight. Are you ready? Gidge and I are on our way to you. Maxine said she’ll meet us there.”

“Yeah, I’ll be ready.”

“You better be! Alright, we’ll be there in 15. See ya.” Franky hung up. 

Phone in hand, Bea laid back down, sleepily staring into nothingness. With her mind vividly replaying the dream, she let out a sigh. 

\-----

Franky sat in the chair in the Empire locker room and waited with Bridget to be called. Her knee bounced up and down impatiently as Bridget took out teal wraps from the H1 bag. She pulled a chair, positioned it to face Franky and sat down with their knees touching.

“How are we feeling, spunky?” She glanced at her while unrolling the wrap. “Right hand.”

“Really good, Gidge. I can’t wait to get out there,” Franky said as she presented her right hand. “You know, there are only two things that make me feel truly alive. One is being with you, obviously,” to which Bridget looked up, smiled and reciprocated the ‘ _obviously_ ’ as she started wrapping Franky’s hand, “and the other is when I’m out there, in the ring, in front of the crowd. It gets loud and quiet, fast and slow, all at the same time. It’s like I’m there but not there. It’s such a surreal feeling.” 

Bridget held Franky’s wrapped right hand with both hands and kissed the padded knuckles, then unrolled the other wrap and put her palm up for Franky’s hand.

“Go on,” she softly encouraged as Franky reached her other hand out. 

“It’s like something just unleashes from within and it’s _beyond_ liberating, Gidge. This...this beast inside, it finally gets to come out, unrestrained and unchained for the time being and you forget all that you are not capable of because in those moments,” Franky shivered in anticipation, “ _anything_ is possible.” 

With both hands now wrapped, Bridget held Franky’s hands and leaned forward, her elbows on her knees. 

“Promise me something, Franky,” she said quietly. Franky mirrored her so that their faces were in close proximity. 

“Anything.” 

“Promise me you won’t let yourself get hurt to get there.” 

Franky lowered her head and looked at their hands. She knew exactly what Bridget meant. To Franky, pain used to be fuel for rage. The more pain she could take, the more aggressive she became and the more reckless. Her fight with Bea two years ago was indicative of that failed approach. Not because she reached a limit with pain, but because Bea had outmatched her with hers. While Franky used pain to thrive, Bea used pain to survive. Since meeting, knowing and falling for Bridget, however, the pain Franky felt was no longer as sharp or as loud. And the pain felt in the ring was no longer felt by one. 

“I promise.” 

The sound of throat clearing pulled them out of their moment. They looked over to find Boomer standing by the door awkwardly. 

“Hey Franky, Bridget,” she nodded to them. “Real sorry to disturb yous but Kim Chang is already in the ring. It’s showtime!” 

“Always a buzzkill, Booms!” Franky groaned. Bridget swatted her shoulder as she got up to get the hanged teal robe. 

“Ignore her, Boomer,” she held out the robe for Franky to put her arms through and put the hood on her head. Once she was ready to go, Franky turned around to face Bridget and pulled her in for a passionate kiss. 

“What’s that for?” Bridget asked in a happy daze. 

“A little preview from our celebration tonight,” she winked. “And because I love you.”

“And I love you, too, spunky.” Bridget smiled wide. “I’ll see you out there, okay?” She said over her shoulder as she made her way out of the room. Franky walked up to Boomer and playfully hit her arm with the back of her hand.

“Enjoy that little show, ya perv?” Franky teased.

“Oi, piss off, Franky. You know I ain’t no lezzo.” 

\-----

As Franky stepped out of the locker room, she was met with loud cheers. With the spotlight on her and her hood up, she kept her head down as she moved through the parting crowd to reach the ring. She slipped through the ropes and stood in the center of the ring before throwing her hood back and raising her arms, as if to receive the audience’s energy. She then bowed in gratitude. Wordlessly, Franky pointed at Kim Chang then drew a line with her thumb across her throat. She grinned cheekily then walked back to her corner to find Bea standing by her corner, outside of the ropes. 

“You ready, Franks?”

Franky hopped in place and rolled her neck.

“I was born ready,” she replied coolly. 

“Now listen to me,” Bea said, “word on the street is Kim has her roots in Muay Thai. If that’s how she decides to fight today, watch out for her elbows, knees and legs. As for you, remember, keep up the pressure but don’t forget about distance. Especially with no gloves, you want to make sure to get in and get out as clean as possible.” As Bea was giving her ringside reminders, Franky looked at Bridget and blew her a kiss and a wink. 

“Franky, are you listening?”

Franky shifted her gaze back to Bea. “Yeah, yeah, with you, Red. Get in, get out.”

“But more importantly, don’t-”

“Oi, Franky! That your girl over there?” Kim Chang shouted from the opposite corner. “By the time I'm done with you, your outsides will finally match your inside: fucked up. Bet she’ll _love_ that.”

“Bitch _please_ ,” Franky retorted, “is your ass not jealous of the shit coming out of your mouth? Besides, I don't even need to do anything to your face. You're doing a fine job as is. Bet no one loves that,” she dropped her jaw and widened her eyes in feign shock then smirked at Kim. 

“Wait till I wipe the smirk off your face.”

“Babes, I would love to see you try.”

“-let her get into your head,” Bea finished her thought in vain and softly shook her head. “Franky, focus.”

Sonia’s voice boomed through the speakers. 

“Welcome to the first event of the Empire. The match between Franky Doyle of H1 and Kim Chang of the Matriarchy is about to start. The betting window has now closed. Take it away, Susan.” 

“Is this thing on?” Boomer’s tapping on a microphone filled the now quieting space. “Alright bitches! In one corner, wearing purple shorts and yellow wraps, representing the Matriarchy, Kim Chang!” Both boos and cheers ensued, to which Kim shouted an irritated _“fuck you”_ over. 

“A fan favorite, I see,” Franky snickered.

“In the other corner, wearing teal shorts and wraps, representing H1, the one and only, Franky Doyle!” A louder cheer erupted and Franky responded by blowing kisses in all directions then looked to Kim, raised her hands and shrugged. “Now, when you hear the bell, that’s the signal to go boonta on each other. Get ready to punch some tits!”

Bea took the robe from Franky and put a mouthguard in her mouth. 

“Give her hell,” Bea winked as she fist bumped Franky and went to take her seat. 

The bell dinged. 

Franky beckoned for Kim to come closer as she walked to the center, then raised her fists to her face in readiness. Kim approached and began to circle Franky, waiting for her to strike first. Deciding to bait Kim into the first punch, Franky stepped in close, throwing a mock jab, then quickly pivoted as Kim threw an angry hook aimed for her cheek. Franky countered with a body shot then stepped out and grinned, white mouthguard on full display.

Irritated, Kim dashed forward and threw a jab, cross, which Franky elegantly bobbed then countered with a strong punch to the face. Kim stumbled back and sniffed, wiping her nose to check for blood. 

Capturing the opportunity, Franky swiftly launched forward and threw multiple combinations, forcing Kim on the defensive. She doubled jabbed, double hooked and threw a body shot, trying to shift the attack from upper body to mid body when Kim’s knee hit her in the stomach; Franky then felt a hook to her face. 

She staggered backwards in mild confusion. 

She looked at Kim, shaking her head quickly as if to sober herself, and then nodded as if to say _‘that’s how it is then’_. She felt a warm trickle from her eyebrow and an angry heat in her face. 

Franky raised her fists again and began moving forward to Kim with her shoulders close to her ears. Just as she was about to throw a flurry of attacks in close quarters, Kim’s right foot on her core shoved her back. She couldn’t strike without being propelled backwards. In the background, she could barely hear Bea’s call outs over the shouts of the crowd. 

But Franky heard it. Though it was difficult, she had to bypass the leg defense to effectively launch a flurry. She threw one jab, two, three, a jab, cross. She got close enough for Kim to raise a leg, parrying it’s extension with one hand as she quickly shifted to the other side and unleashed a solid hook to the body followed by a flurry of combinations to the face; some shots met their target, some half-blocked in a desperate attempt of self-preservation. Kim kept taking steps backwards to create a distance between her and Franky until there was no more room for more steps. Every time she raised a knee to strike Franky while protecting her face, Franky took a step back and threw a hook to the opposite side. 

Eventually, Franky backed Kim into the nearest corner and laid powerful body shots. Kim, in distress, threw her arms over Franky’s arms in a clinch hold, temporarily immobilizing both their fists. She turned them around and pulled her closer so that Franky was not only cornered, but defenseless against the knee strikes that repeatedly launched onto her stomach. Franky tried to bend over to create some leeway between Kim’s knees and her abdomen but it was not enough. She briefly looked up and saw Kim hyper focused on her attacks. Franky threw her head back and in a quick lash, headbutted her hard. In confusion, Kim released her hold and Franky seized the chance; Kim’s nose took the brunt of the incoming hook and her chin, the uppercut. She hobbled backwards, blood gushing over her mouth. 

Kim was down, but not yet out. As Franky charged to close the distance, Kim retaliated by launching a roundhouse kick to Franky’s face, knocking her to the ground. Both Bridget and Bea stood up in shock. 

Having finally created the perfect opportunity, Kim flung herself onto Franky’s slack body and aimed for her face to guarantee the knockout. 

Except Franky had other plans. Though her cheek took Kim’s first grounded punch, Franky rolled them over so that she was on top and proceeded to launch the flurry of a finisher. Her fists rained on Kim’s head in reckless abandon to the point that she did not hear the bell ding three times over the ovation of the crowd and the adrenaline rush in her blood. 

Bea rushed into the ring and pulled Franky off of Kim, who was now laying limp. 

“And the winner is Franky Doyle of H1!” Boomer announced enthusiastically, her loud clapping further amplified through the microphone. 

Franky, coming to her senses, pulled herself from Bea’s hold and looked around, finally aware of the atmosphere around her. She ran towards her corner, jumped up onto the ropes, and looked over the crowd. She raised her fists to the ceiling and let out a primal roar that put the roar of the crowd to shame. She saw Bridget standing up and clapping, relief and love visible on her face, and pointed to her.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Boom. 
> 
> 1) The two songs for this chapter are:  
> Make You Feel by Alina Baraz, Galimatias (for Ballie)  
> Rage by Konrad OldMoney (Franky's entrance song) 
> 
> 2) Next update will be on the 3rd and not the 2nd. I use my one veto card to skip the second because an even prime number should be illegal (I find it very uncomfortable that 2 is the only even prime number out of infinity. Seriously, wtf). Meaningful or meaningless? That is indeed the question for February. 
> 
> 3) Thank you for reading! P.S. Ballie shippers ought to have a collective name. Thoughts on Ballievers? 
> 
> -7B


	7. This Beast Inside Pt. II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This body of work certainly could not keep breathing without CongratulationsBaby's watchful eye. I am indebted. And to the readers, you are the supply of pure oxygen.

“Look up for me, Franky,” Bridget shined a light into Franky’s eyes, looking for signs of a concussion. Franky was sitting on the sink counter in the Empire locker room with Bridget standing in between her legs. She looked over Bridget’s shoulder to see their reflections on the mirror from the other side of the room. 

Coming down from the adrenaline rush from her fight, Franky began to feel the ache all over her body, most notably in her head and stomach. Worn out and exhausted, she let Bridget take care of her as she loosely wrapped her arms around Bridget’s waist. 

“Pupils are looking normal. Let’s treat your wounds first before I clean you up,” Bridget reached for the gauze on the counter and pressed the iodine bottle to the pad. “This might sting a little.” 

She carefully pressed the gauze onto Franky’s eyebrow causing Franky to jerk her head back and wince. Bridget applied more iodine then moved the gauze to Franky’s upper cheek, leaving behind a mixed blotch of red and light brown on her eyebrow.

“Thankfully you won’t be needing any stitches, but she really got you here with that kick, didn’t she?” Bridget raised her hand to Franky’s relatively unharmed cheek and gently swiped her thumb over it as Franky nodded, not saying anything. “You okay?” She asked quietly, looking into Franky’s eyes. 

Franky smiled softly then nodded again. “Yeah, I’m alright, Gidge. Just tired. Where are Bea and Maxine?” 

“They went out to the car to get the ice packs. Shouldn’t be too long,” Bridget set the gauze down, grabbed a hand towel and wet it under the tap. “Okay, almost done here.”

She began to wipe away the blood from her nose and chin, looking over her shoulder once she heard Bea and Maxine’s chatter approaching the room. 

“There’s our champ!” Bea smiled as she walked in carrying the ice cooler, with Maxine trailing behind her carrying a water bottle. “Damn, Franky. Do you feel as bad as you look?” She set the cooler next to Franky, opened it, and handed her the ice pack. 

Franky raised her middle finger before accepting the ice pack and pressing it to her face, chasing relief. Maxine opened the water bottle and handed it to Franky, then looked to Bridget. 

“How’s she doing?” Maxine asked. 

“She’ll be right. An ice bath, a shower, and plenty of rest will do her good. Bruising here and there but nothing serious,” Bridget looked at Franky, who moved the ice pack to her abdomen. 

“We’re celebrating tonight,” Franky said matter-of-factly. 

“ _Sure_ we are,” Bea replied, rolling her eyes. She knew full well that as soon as Franky’s head hit the pillow, she’d be out like a light. 

As they were arguing about how Franky was unlikely to be celebrating, Allie hesitated at the doorway of the open locker room. Franky looked up and saw the blonde. 

“Can we help you?” Franky asked sharply and set the ice pack down. Having seen the blonde with the Hustle, she suddenly became protective of H1’s private moments. All heads turned to look at Allie.

“Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude. I can come back if it’s a bad time-” 

“No, no, come in, Allie,” Bea interrupted her mini-ramble, waving her over. She accepted the invitation and stepped in closer to them.

“You know each other?” Franky asked Bea, surprised. 

“Hey, Allie,” Maxine greeted her. 

“You too? Am I missing something here?” Franky looked to Maxine, who looked at Bea, who was looking at Allie. 

“Franky, Bridget, this is Allie,” Bea introduced her as Allie nervously smiled. 

“I just wanted to congratulate you-” 

“From the Hustle.” Franky interrupted her, unimpressed. 

“Franky,” both Bea and Bridget looked at her, shocked at her bluntness. 

“No, no. Hold on. Am I the only one who thinks something is fishy here?” she hopped off the counter, masking her pain to stand face-to-face with Allie. “Where’s your crew?” she questioned her. 

Allie stood her ground and squared her shoulders. “They couldn't be bothered to show up. They prefer to be training instead of watching others fight.” 

“Then why are _you_ here?” 

Allie briefly glanced at Bea before responding. “I’m here like any fan of the Empire, because I wanted to see the fights.” _Because I wanted to see Bea._

Franky opened her mouth to continue the interrogation, but Bea interceded on Allie’s behalf.

“Franky, _enough_. She came to congratulate you,” she glared at her. Franky looked back at Bea as if to say ‘ _why are you defending her_?’. 

“It’s okay, Bea, if she has something to say, let her say it. I’ve got nothing to hide,” Allie stared Franky down, slowly clenching and unclenching her fists at her sides. Franky gave her one last look before backing down. 

“I’m watching you, Allie from the Hustle. You might have gained their trust, but you haven’t mine,” Franky turned around, put the ice pack and water bottle in the cooler, and closed it.

“Can we go home now?” Franky asked Bridget. “You coming with?” She looked at Maxine and Bea. Maxine nodded and helped Bridget clear and pack up the items on the counter. 

“I’m going to stay for the second fight. I’ll find my own way back,” Bea replied sternly. 

“I can give you a ride back, if you’d like,” Allie offered quietly to Bea. Franky looked at Allie, then to Bea, who gave a slight nod. 

“Suit yourself,” Franky muttered. She walked past Bea, only to be stopped by Bea’s grip on her elbow. 

“We are talking about this later,” she whispered harshly to her. Franky pulled her elbow out of her grip and walked out. 

“It was nice meeting you, Allie,” Bridget said with an apologetic smile as she and Maxine followed after Franky, cooler and H1 bag in hand. 

“Yeah, you too,” Allie replied quietly, leaning her lower back against the counter. Bea moved to stand next to her. 

“Are you alright?” Bea asked. 

“I’m fine. I get the feeling Franky doesn’t like me very much,” Allie chuckled softly, masking her disappointment.

“Don’t take it personally. It's just Franky being… Franky,” Bea shrugged. “You should have seen her when she and I first met. She thought I was looking at her funny, which, granted I was, so she..,” Bea laughed softly to herself in memory, “let’s just say she did not hold her tongue back like she did earlier. We eventually settled it and left it all in the ring.” 

The moment Bea mentioned the ring, she was reminded of their sparring session and the dream from earlier; she went silent. Suddenly, Bea forgot how to act naturally around Allie and actively avoided looking at her, as if Allie could look into her mind through her eyes and watch the dream herself. 

Allie tilted her head at Bea curiously. “Are you okay?”

“Me? No, yeah, I’m good.” The floor looked awfully interesting to Bea. Allie was unconvinced.

“Look at me?” Bea hesitantly looked at her. “Do you want to talk about it?” she asked cautiously, raising her eyebrows.

Bea opened her mouth to say something but decided otherwise and shook her head. 

“Not really,” she uttered, looking away. Not even her fists could stop her from feeling this vulnerable.

“Hey, come here,” Allie reached an arm out, guiding Bea into a hug, then wrapped her arms around Bea and engulfed her. Bea, unaccustomed to physical affection, stood stiff before she allowed herself to slightly relax in Allie’s embrace. 

“What’s this for?” Bea asked, her voice muffled into Allie’s shoulder. 

“Just looked like you could use a hug,” Allie pulled back and kept her hands on Bea’s shoulders, making sure Bea was looking at her, “are we okay?” 

Bea met her eyes and nodded.

“No, no. You have to _say_ it. Are we okay?” Allie asked again, a hint of a smile dancing her lips. 

Bea laughed at her insistence, then tilted her head, smiling at her. “We’re okay.”

Sonia’s voice from the speakers announced that the fight between Simmo of the Matriarchy and Stella of Konquest was about to start and that the betting window had closed. 

“Good,” Allie withdrew her hands and slid them into her front pockets, “sounds like the second fight is about to start. We’d better get to our seats if we don’t want to miss it.”

\-------

By the time they got to their front row seats, the fight was already underway. Stella was charging at Simmo like an angry bull, but Simmo evaded like a competent matador. She even taunted Stella by waving an imaginary red flag with both hands to her right side. With a total of three seats vacant to their left and right sides, Bea and Allie had the opportunity to speak to and hear each other without being drowned out by neighboring cheers and yells.

With one leg crossed over her knee, Allie rested her arm out against the top of Bea’s chair and leaned closer with her eyes on the fight and asked, “who did you place your bet on?” 

Simmo threw a body shot that didn’t seem to faze Stella. Stella grinned maniacally. With Bea’s eyes on the fight, she turned her head to Allie. 

“I didn’t bet on this one. If I did, I’d have put it on Simmo. Stella is out of control,” Bea leaned back with her arms crossed against her chest as she watched Stella charge again and introduced her face to Simmo’s elbow. She scoffed, shaking her head, then looked to Allie. “Don’t tell me you bet on Stella.”

Allie laughed. 

“Of course, not. I’ve fought her before, you know,” Bea shifted in her seat to face her. 

Vicky Kosta stood at the edge of the ring and moved her mouth animatedly as she yelled to Stella, who was clutching her bleeding nose. 

“Who? Stella?” Bea asked, intrigued.

“Simmo, actually. It was during one of the last fight rings I did before I was scouted. It’s her kicks to watch out for. It’s no wonder the Matriarchy wanted her.” 

The crowd’s laughter turned their attention to the ring; Simmo was parading around the ring with Stella doubled over, having landed a strong kick to her unguarded core. 

“Looks like her low-blow showman style is right up the Matriarchy’s alley, too,” Bea rolled her eyes. “Did you win?” she looked back at Allie again, who reacted to the question by tilting her head as if to say _‘what do you think?’_. 

“I _always_ win. Fair and square.” 

Bea abruptly sat up in her chair and turned to her. “Oh! Is that what you call our sparring session? Fair and square? You played dirty.” 

Allie shrugged. “Hey, you never said I couldn’t take to the ground,” Bea knew Allie was right but she wasn’t going to admit it. “And besides, you’re too good standing up. I had to level the playing field, _literally_ ,” Allie chuckled at her own wittiness.

Unable to find a suitable response, Bea leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms again. Allie smiled to herself in amusement as she looked at a grumpy Bea.

“I could teach you to defend a ground takedown, if you want.” 

Bea didn’t look at Allie. She stubbornly refused to give her the satisfaction of being outwitted. “I’ll think about it,” she said, keeping her head high and focusing her eyes back on the ring. 

They watched as an energy-spent Stella tried to grab Simmo, who easily evaded and set up her next move behind her. As Stella turned around, Simmo threw a heavy punch to her head and followed it with her signature roundhouse kick. Stella comically fell backwards and sat limp in the corner of the ring, her head resting against her chest. The bell dinged three times. 

“And the winner is Simmo of the Matriarchy!” Boomer announced.

The crowd cheered as Simmo celebrated an easy win, concluding the second and last fight of the night.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:  
> 1) No more detours! Back on the Balliever train.  
> 2) Next update is on the 5th of Feb. 
> 
> As always, thank you for reading!
> 
> -7B


	8. The World Itself Does Not Matter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This body of work certainly could not keep breathing without CongratulationsBaby's watchful eye. I am indebted. And to the readers, you are the supply of pure oxygen.

“Go down into chaturanga,” Maxine calmly guided their yoga session, bringing her chest closer to the ground in a low plank with both hands shoulder width apart. They faced their laid out yoga mat in the center of the ring. “And into cobra.” 

Maxine lifted her upper body, arching her back, then turned her head to look at Bea besides her. Bea looked like she wanted to be anywhere that did not put her in direct flow with her mind. Maxine guided them into downward dog then lunged her front leg forward and extended her back leg with arms outstretched, elegantly moving into warrior pose. Bea moved to copy Maxine’s movement with grace, but kept losing her balance as she repeatedly lifted and replanted her foot to stabilize her center of gravity. Bea let out a sharp exhale in irritation. Maxine peeked at Bea before looking straight ahead. 

“I’m sensing an energy from you, Bea. You don’t seem to be as focused as you usually are,” Maxine voiced her observation out loud. “Is there something on your mind?” 

“They say yoga is supposed to ease your mind but all it’s doing is forcing me to be aware of it,” Bea complained, sighing as she sat down on her mat, clutching her raised knees to her chest. Maxine disengaged from her pose, putting her hand on Bea’s knee as she sat down directly in front of her and crossing her legs. 

“I think that’s a sign that you need whatever it is off your mind. Talk to me," she scanned Bea's eyes. "Is this about Franky’s behavior yesterday?” 

“No,” Bea blurted. “Well, yes.” She took a moment, looking far in the spatial distance. “I mean…I certainly didn’t appreciate how she spoke to Allie.” 

“I see. Well, you and I both know what Franky’s like when she gets protective. Civility and sensibility seem to get thrown out the window,” Maxine chuckled as she spoke, earning a soft smile from Bea. “But I have the distinct feeling that this is less about Franky and more about Allie. Am I getting warm?” Bea hesitated before nodding. “Last I remember, you, like Franky, seemed to think that Allie had other, nefarious intentions in befriending you. You don't seem to think that way now. What changed?” 

Bea smiled to herself as Allie returned to the forefront of her mind. She remembered how the blonde had outwitted her both in and out of the ring and how she intuitively knew to comfort her without having to say anything. Thinking back, there wasn’t a moment where Allie was insincere or disingenuous. Her mind settled on the incident in the ring after their spar and she bit the inside of her cheek as Maxine awaited her response. 

“After the sparring session with Allie, something happened to me,” Bea started saying, feeling the tension in her body begin to melt away, “something that she may have sparked.” 

She looked at Maxine to see if she understood what she was trying to say. Maxine already had a feeling of what it was Bea was getting at, but decided it was important that Bea let it out without guidance. So, Maxine feigned confusion. 

Bea found her mouth dry and swallowed her nerves. “She ended up on top of me after she tackled me to the ground—which happens often in contact martial arts, I’m aware,” she raised her hand from her knee in emphasis. “But then, she looked at me, Maxi, and I felt _seen_ in a way I’ve never been before.” 

Bea looked up as the visuals in her mind waltzed with her feelings. “It was like the warmth of the sun’s light piercing through the coldest layers of the Earth’s ground as if the light's sole purpose is to reach it. Or like the stepping back of an artist after they’ve added their last brush stroke and marveling at the once elusive totality of their artwork before them for the very first time.” Bea ducked her head. “From everywhere her skin touched mine, electric currents only ignited then reignited the fireworks that I felt within and I panicked,” Bea sadly shrugged in shame. “I felt too much, too quickly and I panicked.” Maxine reached her hand out and covered Bea’s hand. 

“Bea, honey, it’s completely fine to panic. To feel what you just described, how could you _not_ panic? Especially when it’s all brand new,” she patted Bea’s hand before withdrawing. “And besides, I just _knew_ she had the hots for you!” Maxine teased with a smile. Bea amicably pushed Maxine’s shoulder as she tried to hide her warming cheeks. 

“There I was thinking she was being...weird but now, I'm the one who’s being weird.” Bea put her hands to her face. “Fuck, I _feel_ weird.” 

“How do you mean, Bea?” 

“I don't know,” Bea replied, shaking her head as she bit her lip. “Allie makes me feel nervous, excited, and light, _very_ light,” she allowed herself to enjoy the feelings that her thoughts of Allie evoked. “But also scared.”

“Scared of her?”

“No, definitely not scared of her. But scared of it all, of me.” 

Bea looked at Maxine with vulnerability etched onto her face. “I really don't know what I'm doing, Maxine. It’s like I'm at the edge of a cliff and I don't want to look down. I _know_ I don't want to look down but everything in me says jump.” Bea glanced down at her hands, still hugging her knees. “Yet, I can’t move.” 

She felt her heart beat in her ears as she looked into Maxine’s eyes. “Maxi...I think I really like her.” 

At that moment, the weight that Bea had been carrying on her own over the past few days disintegrated with an exhale. Maxine grinned as she celebrated Bea’s admission. 

“What’s stopping you from telling her?” She asked with a hint of excitement. 

“Well, for starters, I’m not relationship material and second, I’m not gay. I have never looked twice at a woman before and with Harry,” Bea shook her head and rolled her eyes at the thought of him, “I don't even know what I was thinking with Harry.” 

Maxine straightened her posture in preparation for an intervention and made sure Bea was listening clearly. 

“Have you been with anyone before Harry?” Maxine began her line of questioning.

Bea shook her head. “No.” 

“Have you been with anyone after Harry?” 

“No, I haven't.”

“Then how have you decided, based off of one relationship, that you are not relationship material? How do you know that feeling anything for anyone that isn’t Harry is not what you want or need?” Bea opened her mouth to respond but Maxine anticipated her rebuttal. “And if its the matter of labels that’s troubling you, then fuck the labels. Do you really think the chemicals in our brains care if someone is straight or not, trans or not, blue, red, green or not, _if_ and _when_ there’s a connection present?” 

Maxine leaned in as if letting Bea in on a hidden, universal truth. “Honey, the world itself does not matter when it comes to that. Only _you_ and your feelings matter. What you do about it is an entirely different discussion.” 

Bea paused for a few moments, allowing Maxine’s words to take hold in her brain. She remembered Allie's words and smiled at the similarity in content. 

“Allie said something similar. When I panicked and said I wasnt gay, she said that she doesn’t care what I am.”

“That’s someone with a good heart supporting a good head on their shoulders,” Maxine remarked. Bea put her chin to her knees as she went silent again.

“I wonder what Debbie would think about all this,” Bea quietly admitted after a moment. Maxine moved to sit next to Bea on her mat and put her arm around her shoulders, giving her a squeeze.

“I think Debbie would want you to be happy. She would hate to see you overthinking and missing out on a chance of happiness,” Maxine said just as quietly. “You're allowed to _live_ , Bea. You're allowed to take that step, make that jump, even fall in love. More still, you're allowed to change your mind if it all doesn't work out. You are not cornered so don't let yourself be.” 

Bea laughed quietly. “I don't know about falling in love, but point received,” she inhaled and let out a shaky breath. “Don't overthink, just feel. Let yourself be.” 

“Precisely that.” 

Maxine smiled at Bea, feeling proud of her for opening up and allowing herself to grow. She recalled how the old Bea would bottle her feelings, worries, and pain, and would only release when she was in a fight or under the influence of alcohol. Since then, Bea avoided drinking completely because it provided her with the blessing and the curse of not feeling. And to forget the pain of losing Debbie was unforgivable to Bea in any state of mind. 

“Now that we’ve settled what has been bothering you, can we get back to yoga?” Maxine said, moving back to her mat.

“Actually, I think I'd like to go out for a quick walk. I just want some time to absorb what we talked about without distracting you,” Bea explained, getting up and putting her hands on her hips. “Besides, I don't think yoga is really my speed.” 

\---------

By the time Bea returned from her walk, Franky, Bridget and Maxine were talking with Boomer, who was on her way out after handing Franky the checks for H1’s win, bets included. Boomer had just turned around when she saw Bea walk in through the door. 

“There she is! How’s it going, Bea?” Boomer fist bumped her, holding a yellow folder to her chest. “I’ve given Franky your check in that envelope she’s got in her hand. I’d love to stay and chat, yeah, but I’ve got Sonia’s errands to run and you know how she gets if I’m late,” she rolled her index finger in circles by her temple. “But yeah, it should all be in there. Sonia sorted it herself.”

“Thanks for bringing it by, but since when did Sonia start using checks?” Bea asked Boomer, who was patting her pockets with one hand, trying to find her vibrating phone before pulling it out. 

“I’ve no clue, Bea,” Boomer said, answering and putting the phone to her ear. “Hello? Oh, hey Sonia. Yeah, on the way now. Yeah. Yeah. I know,” she nodded as Sonia spoke to her. “Yeah, I know. _I can read_ ,” She put her hand to the phone then whispered, “I have to go but congrats Franky once again.” She raised her hand in farewell, folder tucked under her armpit, before walking out and resuming her conversation with Sonia.

“Good afternoon, Bridget,” Bea greeted her warmly and nodded at Maxine as she walked in. “Franky,” she said curtly as she moved past her to get to the locker room. 

“What, this champ doesn’t get a good afternoon?” Franky asked innocently, following after Bea. Bea ignored her. “Come on, don't tell me you’re actually upset about yesterday. I thought we were playing good cop, bad cop! With me being the baddest cop around. If I didn’t know better, I would think you were actually defending her.” Bea briefly turned as she walked and glared at Franky. Franky stopped Bea by putting a hand on her shoulder. “Wait, you were _actually_ defending her?” 

“Franky, you were out of line,” Bea fumed. 

“Out of line?” Franky repeated in stunned disbelief. “Red. She’s from the Hustle. _The Hustle._ Everyone knows their MO, but you seem to have forgotten so let me just quickly remind you, okay?” Franky raised her hands in exasperation. “They use jedi mind tricks. Psychological manipulation to spot weakness, which they then use against you. Come to think of it, that’s probably how Drago got Ruby to agree to keep the fight on.” 

“Yeah, well, Allie isn't like that.” Bea said simply and stubbornly. Franky folded her arms, scrutinizing Bea, and paused. 

“How _do_ you know what Allie is like, anyways?” Bea’s confidence faltered for a second as she looked at Franky, who had an expectant look on her face. When Bea didn’t say anything for a few moments, Franky’s eyes widened and her mouth opened as she gasped. 

“No! No _fucking_ way! You're banging her?!” Franky exclaimed in sudden elation. 

“What? No-”

“So she’s banging you?!” 

“For fuck’s sake, Franky, no one is banging anybody. Come off it already,” Bea said in annoyance, trying to get away from Franky and her jumped-to conclusions. Franky moved to block Bea by standing in her way. 

“Oh, I'll come off it alright,” Franky grinned, enjoying pushing Bea’s buttons. “No, no, no, hold on, hold on, I'm sorry. Let me get this right, please,” she pleaded, putting her hands on Bea’s shoulders to keep her in place as Bea tried to push through.

“Fine,” Bea sighed in surrender as Franky vibrated with excitement. 

“She likes you?” She asked, as if playing a round of ‘Guess Who’, while raising an eyebrow. Bea slowly nodded her head. 

“And you like her? Like, _like her_ , like her,” Franky clarified seriously, blocking Bea from the classic semantic loophole, while tilting her ear towards Bea as she eagerly awaited her response. Bea looked into Franky’s eyes then looked over her shoulder, trying to hide the smile threatening to make its presence known.

“Yes.” 

Franky went silent for a few seconds, then put her fist to her mouth. After a few more seconds, she exploded. 

“I knew it!” Franky jutted her finger at Bea. “I fucking _knew_ you had it in you!” Looking over Bea’s shoulder at Maxine and Bridget, Franky shouted to them, “I knew she had it in her!” Franky’s outburst brought Bridget and Maxine over.

Bea scrunched up her face, massaging her eyelids with her thumb and index finger as Franky processed the new, juicy revelation. “I’m hurt, Red, not going to lie. If all I had to do was get a blonde wig-”

Franky’s face dropped. “Oh, no. Oh no, this is bad. This is _really_ bad.” 

“What’s going on?” Maxine inquired as they walked closer. Franky started pacing back and forth, much to Bridget’s amusement. 

“Alot is going on, Maxine. _Alot_ ," Franky emphasized with her hands. “One: it turns out Red, here, is not entirely hetero, which is no surprise cause I always had a feeling. I always mention it, don't I, Gidge?” 

Franky didn't wait for a response as she continued to pace and rant. “Two: Red is into blondes. Minor surprise there cause that’s entirely understandable,” she rationalized as she went. 

“And three, the _big_ shocker, is that she’s into _Allie_ from the _Hustle_ ,” Franky stopped and looked at Bea. “Are you _even_ thinking straight?” Franky tapped her own forehead. “What am I saying? Clearly not,” she answered herself as she ran her fingers through her hair. “What are we going to do if Allie’s playing her?” 

“Franky, I don't think there’s anything for you to do except not to assume anything,” Bridget calmly said as she pulled Franky closer to her and put her hands on Franky’s waist, making sure she paid attention. “This time and every other time concerning Bea. It is entirely up to her. You have to respect that.” 

“You haven’t even given her a chance,” Bea insisted in vain. Maxine put a hand on her shoulder as she leaned in and quietly whispered, “the world itself does not matter.” 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Brief one this time
> 
> 1) Next update is on the 7th. 
> 
> 2) Thank you for reading :) 
> 
> -7B


	9. Taste Your Medicine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This body of work certainly could not keep breathing without CongratulationsBaby's watchful eye. I am indebted. And to the readers, you are the supply of pure oxygen.
> 
> TW: Depiction, use, and influence of hard drugs.

_(1) Missed Call from: Unknown_

_12:05 pm_

_From Sonia:_

_Loyal Empire fans, it is time for round two. Your vibrant presence elevated the Empire to new heights, but the Empire can still rise higher. Tonight, same time, new location, bring your full wallets to bet on the following matches:_

_Tina Mercado of the Hustle versus Mel Barrett of the Red Right Hand_

_Lucy Gambaro of Konquest versus Maxine Conway of H1._

_Due to popular demand, Empire merchandise can now be purchased at the betting window. Support the Empire by supporting your favorite fighter._

_12:06 pm_

_From Sonia:_

_Location pin._

“Hold that thought, Drago,” Marie interrupted Drago’s monologue on the Hustle’s training schedule as she walked out of her office and closer to the Hustle’s ring. Allie,Tina, and Drago turned their attention to Marie. “Since she’s fighting Mel Barrett of the Red Right Hand tonight, Mercado is exempt from training.” 

Eager for any excuse to get out of a Drago-run training session, Tina happily removed her gloves and stepped out of the ring, surrendering the full space to Allie and Drago. 

“That should be interesting.The Red Right Hand is known to fight _dirty_. Who else is fighting?” Allie asked curiously, leaning against the ropes.

“Juicy Lucy of Konquest versus Maxine of H1,” Marie answered. Allie perked up in anticipation; Bea was definitely going to be there tonight. That was all the incentive Allie needed to get through training with Drago. 

“Easy win for us either way,” Drago remarked, catching her right fist with her left hand. “Since Mercado is out, you,” she pointed at Allie, “will spar with me.” 

“I need to speak with Allie in my office. You’ll get to spar when she and I are done.” Marie instructed curtly, indicating to Allie with a tilt of the head to come with her as she retreated into her office. Allie slipped between the ropes and removed her grappling gloves as she walked closer. 

Entering Marie’s office, Allie moved to sit on the medical examination table as Marie closed the door and lowered the blinds of the window, no longer granting a view to the ring. Marie, now half sitting on the edge of her desk, looked at a patient Allie. 

“I have some good news for you,” Marie started. “I recently came into contact with a new supplier and just received a fresh shipment.”

Marie walked behind the desk, opened a drawer, and pulled out a small tray with a bag of white powder surrounded by a metal sniff straw and a razor blade. She held the tray in front of Allie. 

“I was told it's custom made, a Hustle edition…” she waved a hand around, hoping to lure the word out from hiding, “...cocktail, if you will, and one that I think you would be _very_ interested in trying out before your time to fight.” 

Marie was trying to entice Allie, test her resolve. Allie craned her head to look at the tray, curious about it’s specific contents. The last time she endured the process of getting clean, she had told herself that she was done with drugs and that she was taking control back for herself, once and for all. 

Though Allie couldn’t deny drugs made her feel good, she understood it’s cyclical nature very well: a temporary euphoric release followed by a seductive and irresistible siren call. On certain days, the call was too beautiful to ignore and on others, it was merely an echo in the chambers of her mind. As of recently, she’d been on a giddy high without any help from substances. Scratching her head in uncertainty, she looked at Marie. 

“Listen, Marie. I appreciate it, I do. But I really shouldn’t.” Allie paused to consider her next words, then explained, “I’ve built this momentum and things have been going good for me. I don't need it anymore, and besides, I don't think I like who I become when I fight while high; it brings out the worst in me.” 

Marie set the tray on the desk and moved to stand directly in front of Allie.

“Allie, Allie, Allie,” she cooed, while caressing Allie’s face with both hands. “Come on now. _You_ are the star of the Hustle. Everyone depends on you. _I_ depend on you. You know that, right?” Marie pursed her lips in disappointment. “Have I ever let you down? Haven't I been taking good care of you?”

“You have, but-”

“Look, you’ve been saying you don’t need it for the longest time and at times, I think you genuinely believe yourself,” Marie moved closer to Allie and lowered her voice. “But when it’s time for you to get into the ring, what is it that you ask me for without fail, hmm?” She tucked a strand of hair behind Allie’s ear then pulled back as Allie sighed. “Darling, I’m just looking out for you like I have since day one. Don't forget that _I_ know _you_ very well and I always want what’s best for you.” 

Marie paused, letting her words work their magic as she evaluated Allie. “Come on, what harm would a little taste do, anyway? I’ll have some with you if you don’t trust me.” 

“No, of course, I trust you. You wouldn’t do anything to hurt me,” Allie said, looking at Marie and feeling silly for some reason. “You’re right. I might as well check now how it kicks rather than before the fight, which I will surely ask for,” Allie held Marie’s hands. “But Marie, after the fight, I'm done, alright?” 

Marie tilted her head adoringly at Allie and searched her eyes for determination. “Tell you what, why don't we first get to your fight before we have this conversation again? Let’s focus on the here and the now, okay?” 

“Yeah, alright. Okay,” Allie responded in a daze.

Marie smiled wide. 

“Really?” she confirmed excitedly. Allie nodded, happy to have been able to please Marie. Marie pecked her on the lips, then turned around and lifted the tray off the desk with one hand. She tapped the bag with her index finger, spilling the white powder onto the tray, then used the blade to cut two, thin finger-length lines. Picking up the metal sniff straw, Marie handed it to Allie. 

“See? Just a taste, like we agreed.” 

Allie leaned over the tray, aligned the straw, blocked one nostril, and thoroughly sniffed the line. She closed her eyes and let her head fall back. Marie took the straw from Allie’s hand, leaned over the tray, looked to Allie to make sure she still had her eyes closed and pretended to snort the line. She used her finger to move the line towards the bag then set the tray far away from Allie’s sights. 

“Oh, that’s good,” Marie lied, exhaling. She sat on the examination table next to Allie and wiped Allie’s nostril with her thumb. “How do you feel?” 

Allie turned her head and looked at Marie with large, dilated pupils. 

“I feel invincible,” she breathed. Marie chuckled softly as she got up and opened the door for Allie. 

“That’s my girl. Now, go out there and continue training. Let me know what you think of it afterwards.” 

Allie rolled her neck as she put on her gloves and walked out to the ring to spar Drago. With every step Allie took, her heart beat to the anthem playing in her head; the world bent to her now. An energy coursed through her veins that begged to be released through her fists. Her senses renewed their lease on life and in that moment, her entire being was raw and present as if a new breath had been inhaled into her soul. Allie entered the ring with a newfound confidence, verging on arrogance, and stood face to face with Drago. Watching and waiting for the disaster about to strike, Tina leaned against the ropes from the outside of the ring. 

“What did Marie want with you?” Drago asked bluntly, already irritated for having to wait for Allie. There was certainly no love lost between them. 

“I cannot possibly see how that is any of your business, Drago,” Allie replied, rolling her eyes. 

“Marie _is_ my business.” 

“Yikes. Possessive much?” 

“Drago can't help but feel jealous when Marie talks to you. She already thinks you’re stealing the attention as Marie’s favorite,” Tina piped up, feeding the small burning fire. 

“That is false. I am Marie’s second hand, not this lying thief. Always was, always will be,” Drago stated firmly. 

“Whatever you need to tell yourself to sleep at night, Drago. I really couldn’t care less about you. You’re about as useful to me as a pet rock,” Allie shrugged as Tina guffawed. 

“I'll show you pet rock,” Drago snarled as she tried to hook Allie, who, already on high alert, cleanly dodged.

“Struck a nerve there, didn't I, Drago? Well, I didn't say anything that wasn't true,” she continued, aggravating Drago further. Drago threw a jab cross, to which Allie quickly slipped twice. “You’re pointless.”

Drago threw a double jab, cross, uppercut and Allie dodged backwards and parried with ease. 

“You're worthless,” Allie continued, stabbing her words into Drago and twisting. 

Drago threw hook after hook to her body, which Allie blocked before rolling out and countering with a hook to her face. 

“You're _nothing._ Isn't that what you always say to me? Taste your fucking medicine,” Allie spat the words in Drago’s face. 

Seeing red, Drago launched a kick to Allie’s head, which Allie blocked by raising her gloves to her ears and raising her shoulders. Fueled by irritation and rage, Drago charged at Allie and tackled her shoulder first into the ground; Allie shouted loudly in pain. 

At the sound of the shout, Marie ran out of her office to see Drago showering Allie’s head with punches as Allie tried to block her as best as she could with one functioning arm.

Marie ran across the gyn and entered through the ropes to push Drago off of Allie. 

“Drago! Stop it!” 

Thinking it was Tina trying to intervene, Drago shoved Marie away with one hand until it dawned on her that it was Marie she knocked down. She immediately peeled herself off of Allie and towards Marie in apology. 

“Fuck, Marie, did I hurt you?” Drago asked quickly, trying to help rectify her mistake. Marie swatted her hand away, got up, and kneeled next to Allie. Allie was writhing in pain, clutching her shoulder. 

“I can't move my arm, Marie,” Allie moaned, grimacing. 

“Tina, come help me get her to my office,” Marie ordered, springing Tina into action. “As for you, Drago, I can't even look at you. Get out of my sight.” 

As Tina managed to get Allie to stand, Drago looked at Allie in disgust and anger. She removed her gloves, threw them to the ground, then exited the ring and marched to the locker room in burning rage and betrayal. 

“Help her to my office,” Marie commanded.

“My legs are fine, Marie. It’s my right shoulder that I can’t move,” Allie uttered through clenched teeth, contorting her face as pain radiated. 

Entering Marie’s office, Allie sat on the examination table once again.

“Can you squeeze your hand, Allie?” Allie clenched and unclenched her right hand. “Okay, that’s very good. Can you lift your arm?”

Allie managed to lift her arm slightly off her thigh before she yelped and groaned in pain. Marie lightly touched Allie’s shoulder and felt the protrusion. 

“Tina, can you push the table out towards me and help her lay down?” Tina complied as Marie moved to Allie’s right side, holding her hand gently. “Allie, I'm going to need you to relax. You have a dislocated shoulder.” 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:  
> 1) The next update is to be announced. I will be taking a short break to a) plan and bulk write the rest of the chapters and b) seriously prep for a major career opportunity. The Ballie fort will be held because when I come back, the chapters will be better than ever. 
> 
> 2) A huge shout out and round of applause goes to CongratulationsBaby for the time and effort she put into helping me with editing and chapter trimming all this time. Without her, these chapters would have a permanent bad hair day.
> 
> 3) I also would like to reiterate how On The Ropes could not have taken its first breath without QueenBNYC. The confidence and support she instilled in me led OTR to burn rubber on the road. 
> 
> 4) And last, but certainly never the least, to the readers and Ballievers. The chapters to come will far surpass what you have read so far. Thank you for reading, for engaging and for encouraging me to keep going. You are oxygen. 
> 
> 5) And to the academy... nah just playing. 
> 
> -7B


	10. A Victor's Offering

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This body of work certainly could not keep breathing without CongratulationsBaby's watchful eye. I am indebted. And to the readers, you are the supply of pure oxygen.
> 
> HBD, QB.

“Nervous, Maxi?” Franky asked, standing behind a seated Maxine and kneading her shoulders. 

With H1 sitting in their front row seats, Franky looked around and observed the Empire fans starting to gather for tonight’s fights. 

“Not at all,” Maxine answered calmly, closing her eyes as she relaxed into the massage with an exhale. “I’m well trained, well rested, and in control.” 

“That’s good,” Franky absentmindedly replied, her eyes scanning their surroundings until they fell on Bea beside Bridget. “That’s great, you totally sound in control.” 

Continuing her ministrations, she followed Bea’s line of sight through the ropes of the ring and landed on a hooded blonde. With her right arm resting in the pouch of her oversized black hoodie, Allie leaned forward with an elbow on her knee and a hand covering her eyes, almost as if trying to withdraw into herself. Franky and Bea watched as Marie leaned over to Allie, moving her mouth in a brief, one sided conversation before getting up and leaving her as the sole occupier of the Hustle seats. 

“Ease up, Franky!” Maxine yelped with a grimace as she raised her shoulders to her ears to lessen the pressure from Franky’s grip. Franky widened her eyes in realization.

“Relax,” Franky dragged out, improvising, “you just had some knots that needed extra pressure, that’s all.” She patted Maxine’s shoulders twice. “All clear.” 

Moved from behind Maxine to sit between her and Bridget, Franky gave Bridget a quick kiss on the cheek and quietly whispered, nodding towards Bea, “lover girl seems focused tonight.” 

Bridget tilted her head to look at a captivated Bea, unaware that she was the subject of their conversation.

“Be _nice_ , Franky,” Bridget quietly chided. 

“What do you mean?” Franky pulled a face of shock. “I’m _always_ nice, Gidge.” 

Bridget pursed her lips and raised a single, questioning eyebrow. They watched as Bea dragged the H1 ice box from under her chair, opened it, and took out a cold water bottle.

“I’ll be back,” Bea abruptly announced. She stood up and walked around the ring to approach Allie. Still concealing her face, Allie didn't register Bea’s presence until Bea gently pressed the cold bottle to the back of Allie’s hand; Allie gasped, tensing her body and jerking away in a sharp grimace. 

“Bea,” Allie quickly exhaled, moving her hand to sooth her injured shoulder. “You startled me.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry! I didn't realize you're the type to easily startle,” Bea apologized, standing self-consciously in front of Allie.

Bea internally scolded herself. _Smooth, real smooth._

“No, no! It’s a pleasant startle,” Allie justified. “Here, come sit,” she eagerly shifted to the seat on her right and looked up at Bea, smiling. “All warmed up _just_ for you.”

“You shouldn’t have,” Bea bantered as she sat down, extending the water bottle out to Allie. “This is for you. For, you know, hydration.” 

_For hydration? Really?_ Bea mentally facepalmed.

“Ah, a victor’s offering,” Allie teased, brushing her fingers against Bea’s as she received the bottle, tilting it and winking. “I whole-heartedly accept, _thank you_ , Bea.” She set the water bottle on the ground. 

“ _Wow_ ,” Bea breathed out, dramatically rolling her eyes and faintly shaking her head with a lopsided smile. “You’re _just_ as bad as Franky.” 

At the mention of Franky, Allie glanced around and found Franky’s eyes monitoring them, trying to read between the lines. Allie turned to Bea, “don't look, but Franky is watching us and she looks _super thrilled._ ” 

“You know what? I really don't care about what Franky thinks about you,” Bea confessed, looking directly into Allie’s blue eyes. The resolve behind Bea’s words hammered down and catapulted Allie’s heart up into the confines of her mind, ding-ding-dinging before swan-diving back down to her stomach and erupting into a thousand butterflies. Allie bashfully lowered her head, uncharacteristically speechless. 

“Hey,” Bea softly said after a moment, tilting her head at Allie. “Are you feeling okay? You seem different today.” 

Bea could see the sapped energy in Allie’s body, face and eyes as Allie leaned back, deeply inhaling as she contemplated her response. 

“I’ve just had a long, tiring day,” Allie explained, avoiding Bea’s eyes. “Drago was particularly rough in training today and I haven’t been getting much rest either. Plus, the music is doing my head in.” 

“Maybe being here right now isn't the best thing for you. Don't push yourself if your body is asking for rest,” Bea gently advised, though her heart was selfishly scolding her mind for suggesting Allie go home.

“Being here is not all that bad. I mean, how else am I going to see you?” Allie asked innocently. _What can I do when my heart asks for you?_

Feeling her cheeks start to warm, Bea found herself unable to formulate a response. Thankfully, she was saved by Sonia’s announcement that the fight between Tina Mercado and Mel Barrett was about to start and that the betting window had now closed. 

“Hey Allie, about your offer to help teach me to defend a takedown. Is it still valid?” Bea asked politely.

“For you? _Always_ ,” Allie smiled. “I could come by tomorrow. How does that sound?” 

“Sounds like someone’s eager to see me.” 

Allie fluttered her lashes, temporarily stunned, before regaining her confident composure. 

“Bea Smith! Are you...are you _flirting_ with me?” Allie grinned. 

Bea’s moment of bravery began to wane as she briefly looked away with a bashful smile. She met Allie’s eyes again and slightly leaned in, playfully narrowing her eyes and pursing her lips. 

" _Maybe_."

Allie leaned closer, bringing their faces in close proximity; mischief written all over hers. 

“In that case," Allie's tongue darted across her bottom lip. "I _may be_ eager to see you.” 

A long moment passed between them as one tried to find the other within their reflected selves. 

Bea was the first to break eye contact but only because a frantic motion from the corner of her eye distracted her. She looked over to H1 and saw Franky wildly waving her arms; Franky then tapped her wrist three times with her index finger.

Bea exhaled in irritation. 

“I better get back," she said, rolling her eyes as she moved to stand in front of Allie with her back to the ring. “ _So_ , will I see you again? Maybe?” 

Allie nodded, thoroughly smitten by the woman before her. “ _Definitely_ , maybe.” 

As Bea turned to go back to her seat, Allie reached out and grabbed Bea’s hand, halting her from floating away by tethering their hands together. “Thank you for the water, beautiful.” 

"Make sure you drink it,” Bea gave her a pointed look while internally acknowledging the compliment. “And get some rest.”

Allie still held onto her hand as Bea gently tugged.

"Oh, did you want your hand back?" Allie grinned cheekily as Bea playfully rolled her eyes. "Okay, fiiine." 

She let go, dramatically sighing as she watched Bea’s retreating form. Looking over her shoulder at Allie, Bea gave a small wave. Allie happily winked back. 

\--------

Returning to her seat, Bea found that Franky had switched seats with Bridget in order to interrogate Bea; there was no escape.

Franky leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. 

“You sure took your time. You know the Hustle could’ve seen you and then we’d all be in trouble,” Franky scolded Bea, who scoffed in response. 

“Who are you, my mother?" Bea shot back, raising her voice above the music that introduced Mel Barrett into the ring. "Look, I know you don't approve of Allie just because she’s from the damned Hustle, but I’m not _asking_ for your permission, Franky,” Bea crossed her arms. “She’s more than where she comes from, it’s that simple. So, _please_ , let it go.” 

Bea and Franky watched as Mel jumped up to a corner, blew a kiss to her girlfriend, Mon Alston, then made a show of kissing her wrapped knuckles. 

Franky sighed as she turned in her chair to face Bea. “While I am not your mother, I am your best friend and it’s my _job_ to look out for you. You think I don't want to see you join my team? I would be the first one to roll out the red carpet for you and give you _the_ sex talk. I just don't want to see anyone hurt you. _Ever_ ,” Franky leaned forward in her chair and shrugged. “I just have a bad feeling about the Hustle. They’re bad news.” 

Tina Mercado entered the ring, then jumped onto the ropes, balancing herself with crossed arms as she violently bobbed her head to the beat of the music. The crowd went wild for her.

“We’re _all_ bad news,” Bea exclaimed exasperatedly. “Look around you,” she gestured with both her hands, “look at where we are, look at them, look at _us_. We're all here because we know what it is to hurt: some love to get hurt, some love to see others get hurt and some love to hurt others. There are no false pretenses to our dark desires and thank fuck for that; what you see is what you get, nothing more, nothing less.” 

Bea turned her knees to face Franky. “What I’m trying to say is we're all fucked up in some way. So, I’ll take my chances when it comes to the closest thing to good in here and out there and for me, that happens to be Allie.” 

Mercado walked up to Mel and tried to provoke her by getting physically close enough to push her back. Bea looked to Allie, who was preoccupied with drinking her water as she watched Mercado.

Franky chewed the inside of her cheek as she looked at Bea, bouncing her knee up and down as she processed her words. 

“Okay,” Franky shrugged in defeat. “While I don't like it, I respect your decision. You know I’ve got your back, always,” Franky reached her hand out to squeeze Bea’s hand in support while Bea released the breath she was holding. 

“Are you ready for round two?” The sound system amplified Sonia’s voice as the crowd cheered and whistled in response. “Take it away, Susan.” 

“–to go bunta tonight!” Boomer’s voice sounded as her microphone turned on. “In _this_ corner, in real original fashion, wearing red shorts and wraps, Mel Barrett of the Red Right Hand!” Mel raised a fist as the audience hollered, then she shadow boxed in place. “And in _that_ corner, bringing the fire and the heat, wearing black shorts and purple wraps, Tina Mercado of the Hustle!” Tina hopped in place then she cut the air with a rapidly fired combination. “You know the rules, you fight when the bell dings. Good luck!” 

The bell dinged twice. 

“What do we know about the Red Right Hand?” Bea asked Franky, who watched Mel underestimate her opponent. She cockily swung her fist, going for first blood but Tina dodged and struck Mel’s solar plexus with a cross to the body, knocking the wind thoroughly out of her. 

“They're a bunch of street fighters,” Franky replied, watching Tina circle around an out of breath Mel. “What they lack in physical skill, they make up for in craftiness. I doubt Mel is an exception to the rule.” 

Franky grimaced as Tina grabbed Mel’s head, drove her to a corner, then slammed her head onto the barely cushioned pole. Out of sobering anger and pain, Mel threw a surprise hook that caught Tina’s cheek, creating multiple cuts. Tina clutched her face as she retreated to her corner then pointed repeatedly at her knuckles for Marie and Drago to see; Mel was not bare knuckled under the wraps. 

As the fight went on, Franky became more absorbed in the altercation, and Bea alternated between thinking about Allie and trying to catch glimpses of her. Bea thought about how she was going to see the blonde in the ring the following day and how this time, she was going to be prepared. 

Watching the fight, Franky noticed that anytime Mel moved to strike, Tina would immediately jump back in order to avoid a damaging hit. Seeing the similarity to her own fighting style, Franky knew what Tina was up to: she was allowing Mel to exhaust herself before starting her own offensives. 

“She’s got the upper hand, doesn’t she?” Franky, not taking her eyes off the fight, leaned in and asked Bea, who was miles away from the fight in front of her. 

“Yeah, she does. She seems more experienced, more in control,” Bea replied, remembering how Allie always seemed to exude confidence around Bea and others. Was it this that pulled her to Allie?

Mel smirked as she kept forcing Tina to retreat. She threw a couple of jabs and crosses until she got close to cornering Tina.

“And the way she carries herself, I bet she thinks she’s got it signed, sealed, delivered,” Franky scoffed at Mel’s arrogance and shook her head. 

“You really think so? Come on, there’s bound to be surprises from both sides, right?” Bea thought back to earlier, how she stunned Allie by being bold and unencumbered by worry and doubt. Bea could hold her own; all she needed was time. 

“Surprises?” Franky repeated absentmindedly, engrossed with how Mel repeatedly threw hooks at Tina’s body and how Tina kneed Mel in a defensive attempt to create some distance and escape the corner. “No. She _clearly_ knows what she wants and is certainly not afraid to go for it.” 

“I _know_. That’s definitely the first thing I noticed. She’s relentless,” Bea chuckled as she remembered the first time she saw Allie outside the Empire and how angry she was with Bea after Bea stepped in to defend her from Drago. And the second time at the pub, when Allie refused to take no for an answer and had to right her wrong. Her mind put on rose-colored Allie glasses as Franky continued to intensely observe the fight. 

“It’s her hands to watch out for,” Franky explained after a while, leaning her shoulder towards Bea. By then, Tina regained control over the fight by throwing uppercuts, forcing Mel to defend herself. “Trust me, one touch and you’ll be seeing stars.” 

When Mel raised her fists to guard her face, Tina stepped in, grabbed Mel’s wrist and jerked it backwards to hit her face with her own fist. Franky repeatedly flicked her wrist sideways as she made an ‘o’ with her mouth. 

“Really?” Bea blinked a few times as she felt herself blush. “That intense?” 

“No doubt, no doubt!” Franky nodded frantically, highly amused by the turn of events in the ring. Tina was able to kick Mel to the ground, shifting to a territory she was more familiar with. Mel tried to crab walk backwards but everytime she tried to get up, Tina would force her back down. 

The crowd erupted with shouts of “finish her!” and laughter at the unfolding scene. Mel’s girlfriend, Mon, stood up from her chair as she shouted against the loud pro-Hustle tide. Tina launched herself at Mel, who tried to hit Tina while avoiding being hit. Mon was shouting advice in vain over the roar of the horde. 

Maxine’s reminder that she’s not cornered rang true in Bea’s ears. Bea recalled how her life had always been ruled by a list of do’s and don’ts, monitored and implemented by her overthinking and criticizing mind. She turned to look at Franky as she gathered her courage.

“Could you...I mean, do you think I could, maybe, learn to do that?” Bea asked shyly.

Franky scrunched up her face in confusion as she tried to comprehend Bea’s request against the backdrop of the fight in front of her. Bea always had a policy of self-sufficiency; anything she had to do, it would never depend on anyone or anything. She racked her brain as to why Bea would want to abandon her fighting style for silly street fighting tactics. 

“Why would you want to learn how to fight with spiked brass knuckles?” Franky wondered out loud, turning her face to look at Bea in confusion. “Come on, we both know that’s such a cheap way of fighting.” 

_Spiked brass knuckles?_ Bea, furrowing her eyebrows, looked equally as confused as Franky. 

“Franky, what are you talking about?” Bea asked incredulously, scratching her head. 

“The fight, of course! What are _you_ talking about?” 

Bea widened her eyes in realization and could not stop the blush that painted her cheeks red in embarrassment. She leaned forward and put her hands to her face. 

“What? What did I say?” Franky asked, baffled at her reaction. She tried to replay their conversation in her head, but came up empty. “What on earth has gotten you so-” 

Realization poured over Franky like cold water. 

“You saucy, _saucy_ minx,” Franky beamed with pride. “Did we.. did we just talk about what we _didn't_ talk about? Are you really asking me what I think you’re asking me?”

The sound of the bell ringing three times snapped Bea and Franky’s attention to the ring. 

“Due to the violation of Empire rules,” Sonia’s voice angrily reverberated, “Mel Barrett and Mon Alston have been disqualified; Tina Mercado is, by default, victor.” 

Having been thrown off of Mel by her girlfriend, Tina got up, darted towards Mon, grabbed her by the shirt and punched her repeatedly for granting her a non-victory by means of a default: a false and undignified victory.

Knowing Tina’s not-so-tiny temper, the Hustle stood up as Marie nudged Drago to pacify her. Drago rushed into the ring and pulled Tina away as she shouted, kicked, and tried to break free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Surprise prime update! 
> 
> 1) Lately, productivity and procrastination exist in the same hour glass. I've been sat on this chapter and thought, 'hmm, maybe you'd like to read it.' 
> 
> 2) Tried my hand at a missed connection convo. Turns out its not as easy as I imagined in my head. I hope to include more experimental approaches, keep things spicy! 
> 
> 3) Next update is on my favorite prime (rhymes with care-free bee). Thank you for reading! 
> 
> -7B


	11. A Victor's Offering Pt II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This body of work certainly could not keep breathing without CongratulationsBaby's watchful eye. I am indebted. And to the readers, you are the supply of pure oxygen.

“I won’t stop bothering you until you ask me again what you asked earlier,” Franky insisted, her arm loosely resting around Bea’s neck as they walked, followed by Maxine and Bridget, down the hallway to the Empire locker room. 

Bea pursed her lips and furrowed her eyebrows, squinting an eye as she pretended to be confused. “You’re _clearly_ mistaken, Franky. I don't remember asking for anything!” 

“You’re _such_ a liar,” Franky laughed, throwing her head back, clearly aware of the delicate situation Bea had put herself in. She pulled Bea closer by tightening her hold. “But just admit it, you did ask me, right?” 

“I can neither confirm nor deny,” Bea evaded, playfully pushing Franky away. 

“Why won’t you say no, huh?” Franky pestered, walking backwards in front of Bea. “Cause you _so_ did!” 

“Bea!” A delicate voice called out from behind, stopping H1 in their tracks. 

Absentmindedly trailing along, Allie perked her head up at the mention of Bea’s name as Bea turned around to see the Hustle approaching them. Mercado and Drago parted to make way for Marie to step forward then stood like bodyguards on both sides. Allie tried to catch Bea’s eye as she leaned against the wall, smiling softly at the sight of her. 

“Marie.” 

Bea, followed by Franky, moved past Bridget and Maxine to stand in front of Marie. 

“To what do we owe this... _honor_?” Bea asked, crossing her arms as she tilted her head, studying Marie and her bodyguards. Bea could feel Allie’s eyes on her, but avoided looking in fear that her eyes would speak softly on her tongue’s behalf and betray her. 

“I’ve got some information that I think you'd be very interested in knowing,” Marie replied, a cold smile frosted on her lips. Allie’s posture stiffened as an uneasy feeling breezed through her. 

“Oh, really?” Bea raised her eyebrows. “And what would that be?”

Allie’s eyes darted between Bea and Marie, curious about what Marie had to say. 

“Come on, Bea,” Franky rolled her eyes. “Ignore her. She’s clearly got noth-”

“Actually,” Marie interrupted, “I have it on good authority from a _very_ credible source that the final Empire match will be between Drago and…yourself.” 

Allie’s heart dropped heavy as she stood up straight. _Marie never mentioned this,_ she thought. She could feel Franky’s eyes boring holes into her. _Why didn't Marie mention it? Fuck, what’s Bea going to think?_

She tried to think of a way to explain to Bea that she, in fact, didn't know about the match up. _Will Bea think I’m a spy_ ? _Does Marie know about Bea? How could she have known?_ Question after question sped through her mind. 

Looking at Allie, Bea shook her head as she scoffed coldly to herself; she couldn't parry the disappointment, anger, and humiliation uppercutting her heart. Solemnly nodding, Bea took a step closer to Marie, prompting Drago to move and stand between them. 

“It’s okay,” Marie murmured. Drago stepped back. 

“That’s a fucking hound dog you got there,” Franky laughed darkly. “Come to think of it, the whole lot of you are.” 

Still pissed off at not being able to bash her opponent to victory, Tina came alive and with her fighting spirit still intact, verbally lashed out at Franky. 

“Hound dog, huh?” Tina spat. “I’m going to sink my teeth into you and rip you apart. You reek of fear.” 

Franky sniffed one shoulder, the other, then shook her head and shrugged. 

“You, in particular, must be a terrible hound because I just smell my favorite fragrance, Franky’s _eau de brilliance_ ,” Franky retorted, adding a french accent to the fragrance name. “In fact, it must be _your_ stench that’s odor-loading the place,” she waved her hand in front of her nose to dispel the air as Maxine and Bridget cracked a smile at Franky’s antics. 

Tina lunged at Franky, only to be grabbed by Drago once again and put in place by a sharp warning from Marie. 

“Yeah, Marie!” Franky praised. “Rein those leashes in.” 

Marie instructed Allie to take Tina and wait with her in their locker room for the post-fight check. Allie obliged but not before giving Bea a pleading look; Bea intentionally and coldly ignored her. 

“Everyone knows you don't act without command!” Franky shouted after their retreating forms. 

“Enough,” Bea raised a hand then lowered it as she redirected her attention to Marie once again. “What do you possibly gain by telling me this?”

“Just consider it an act of good faith,” Marie smiled. “From one top gym to another.” 

Drago scoffed.

“Just don’t count on good faith. I won’t have mercy. I’ll torture you,” Drago smirked. “From the inside and out.” 

Bea shifted on her feet as she squared her shoulders up to challenge Drago in silent conversation. 

_I know all about you,_ Drago’s eyes spoke. 

_You know nothing about me,_ Bea’s silently responded.

“Come along now, Drago. H1 have their fight to attend to. We mustn't keep them much longer,” Marie peeked at Maxine. “Good luck with your fight, love.” 

Drago broke the staring contest with Bea and followed after Marie, earning a woof from Franky. 

Bea turned around and stormed into the locker room in fuming silence, with the rest of H1 following after her. Her nostrils flared as she exhaled the smoke from the fire within; a burning poison flooded her veins, causing her white-knuckled, clenched fists to vibrate in anger. 

Unanswered questions jackhammered through her thoughts of Allie, shattering them into broken, distorted, and incomplete pieces. _Was this Allie’s plan all along? To get close, set her up, and then betray her? Was it even real for her? How could I be so foolish?_

Bea knew she could not put the blame on anyone but herself. Franky desperately tried to warn her but she refused to listen. Allie’s betrayal clipped the wings of Bea’s newly soaring heart, causing it to hopelessly fall back into the open arms of the dark abyss her mind had always known.

“Bea?” Franky softly called out. Feeling embarrassed, Bea couldn't look her in the eyes. “I-”

“Don't. Don't you dare say it,” Bea uttered in defeat, her head down in shame. “Just don't.” 

Franky slowly approached Bea with both hands up. 

“I just wanted to say that you can use me as a punching bag if you want to let it out,” Franky said, lowering her head to meet Bea’s eyes. “But, just avoid the face, yeah?” She gave Bea a soft, sympathetic smile as she put her palms to Bea’s upper arms. 

“Fuck, I feel so _stupid._ ” 

Franky was about to respond when a knock on the door caused her to look over her shoulder. 

“Hey gang,” Boomer made a vague gang sign with her hands that withered quickly as she read the room; she immediately clasped her hands to save face. “Just wanted to say it's almost showtime,” she said, looking at Maxine, who was still in her regular attire. “Oi, Maxi, why aren’t you ready? Are you not fighting?”

“I am, Booms! We just ran into some... issues,” Maxine explained, “I just need a little longer, is that alright?” 

“Issues? Uh, well, I don't know,” Boomer nervously scratched her head. “Sonia’s pretty iffy when it comes to time and schedule. Likes a tight ship and-”

“Franky will go talk to Sonia and buy us some time, right, Franky?” Bea looked to Franky, silently pleading for her to handle it. 

Franky nodded. “Yeah, no problem. Come with me, Booms. We’ll beat her up if she says no,” she joked, walking out with Boomer, who could be heard saying that Sonia doesn't respond well to threats. 

As Maxine went to get changed and Bridget went to retrieve the H1 bag from the nearby locker, Bea sighed as she took a seat on the locker room bench. She tried to avoid thinking about Marie, Drago and Allie, but she suddenly felt cornered, as if her ability to think and breathe were limited by the dimensions of the room. 

Bea abruptly stood up when Bridget returned. 

“Bridget, I hate to ask, but would you mind wrapping Maxine’s hands? I’d do it but I really could use some air right now,” Bea exhaled as she asked, her face a portrait of pained contortion. 

“Of course, go ahead. I’ll come find you if you're not back by the time the fight starts.”

“Thank you.” Bea dashed out of the room, down the hall, past the ring, and exited through the main entrance.

Standing off to the side of the road, Bea looked up to the darkened and starless sky. Hiding a waning moon, pregnant clouds threatened to spill at any moment. 

“Looks like you and I are one tonight,” Bea uttered to the sky in an exhale. “Betrayed by your acolytes, I, too, am empty and out of light.” 

A waft of smoke blew her way. She turned her head and spotted a woman nearby who had a lit cigarette. Though Bea hadn't smoked in years, she couldn't deny the temptation to walk up to the woman and ask for one. In that moment, she imagined the harsh and dirty taste burning her throat as her heart burned within; her mind and nerves would attach themselves once more to a rush that would coast through a heavy mind and down tense limbs.

Deep in her thoughts, she didn't hear the footsteps come closer from behind her. 

“Bea, can we talk?” 

Upon turning her head and seeing Allie, Bea felt a sharp stab of sadness pierce her heart. She felt foolish for being outwitted by Allie once again and for thinking that she deserved a chance at happiness or whatever she and Allie would have amounted to. 

“Talk?” Bea scoffed, shaking her head as she turned to face her. “What is there to talk about, Allie? What do you want me to say? Congratulations at a job well done?” She flashed her eyebrows then furrowed them in anger. “You did what you were told, so now leave me alone.”

“Bea, please, it was never about that,” Allie pleaded. “I _never_ got close to you to spy.” 

“Oh, you think you got close to me?” Bea laughed darkly, then leaned forward to make sure Allie heard every syllable. “You were at an arm’s length the _whole_ time. You only saw what I wanted you to see.” 

Allie felt the blow to her chest. She refused to believe that. 

“That’s not _fair_ , Bea. I swear I didn't know you’re fighting Drago. _I swear._ Think about it, how could I have known?” 

“Just stop the act,” Bea groaned in irritation, refusing to listen to anything other than what she was telling herself: she was, and always would be a means to an end. “Whatever this is...was…” she corrected while pointing between them, “it was dead on arrival. Don't bother showing up tomorrow.” 

As Bea moved to walk past her, Allie reached out and grabbed her hand once again. 

“Please, believe me.” 

“Don't touch me,” Bea jerked her hand back as if shocked by electricity. “Just...just stay on your side and I’ll stay on mine.” 

As Bea made her way back to the Empire, Allie longingly looked after her. 

_‘Please look back, please look back,’_ Allie silently begged. When Bea didn't look back, next to her aching heart, Allie hung her head in disappointment. 

\-------------

‘ _Don’t look back, don't look back,’_ Bea repeated to herself with every step she took away from Allie. 

Entering the hall of the Empire, Bea rested the back of her head against the nearest wall as she finally reeled from the words she afflicted on Allie and consequently, herself. 

She sunk deeper into her labyrinth of darkness. The day’s events yanked the sheet off a draped and lurking fear, exposing Bea to an ugly truth: hope was nothing but beautiful disappointment. To expect otherwise was to expect a spear to the heart. 

Coming to terms with reality, Bea peeled herself from the wall and started to walk to the ring, only to be approached by Bridget. 

“I was just coming to get you,” Bridget explained as she paused in front of Bea, then turning to match her direction. “Feeling better?” 

“Yeah, I’m all good,” Bea nodded and gave her a quick smile that didn’t go anywhere, then changed the subject as they approached the outer edge of the Empire horde. “Maxine in the ring yet?” 

“She is,” Bridget replied, slipping past the fans and followed by Bea, “but Konquest, especially Vicky Kosta, are doing their best to rile her up. It’s not pretty.” 

Nearing the front, Bea saw Franky standing agitatedly by Maxine’s corner and as they took their seats, they heard Vicky and Lucy laughing loudly at what seemed like nothing in particular. 

“Pretend to not see or hear them,” Maxine calmly spoke to Franky. “Don't give them the satisfaction of achieving anything.” 

“No, fuck that,” Franky snapped. “You shouldn’t be calm. Why are you calm?” 

“There is no use arguing with ignorance, Franky. That is a fight you will never win, trust me, I _know._ ” 

“Yeah, well, I learned to talk with my fists long before I learned to use my words. _That_ is a fight I know I can win and one that will shut them up good,” Franky shifted to move towards Konquest only to be pulled back by Maxine. 

“I know what you're thinking but don’t. They’re not worth it. Don’t get yourself involved,” Maxine pleaded. 

“But Maxi, I am _already_ involved,” Franky argued, exasperatedly raising her arms out wide. “When they laugh at you, they’re laughing at _us_. When they hurt you, they’re hurting _us_. _Your_ fight is _our_ fight. And if I can't allow it for myself, I will not allow it for you.” 

“Franky, I don't want you to lay a finger on-”

Obnoxious laughter from Konquest’s corner seized Franky’s attention as rage lassoed her tongue. 

“Oh, _enough_ already, you uneven sized ballsack,” Franky shouted to their corner. “How about you let us in on what’s so funny? Or are you two the joke?” 

“Take a fucking chill pill,” Kosta retorted, rolling her eyes. “I’m sure that’s not all H1 knows how to take.” Lucy cackled next to her. 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

“I don’t know,” Kosta shrugged. “Ask the he-she next to you.” 

Maxine sighed as Franky sharply inhaled, twisted her mouth around in internal debate, then came to a decision. 

“He-she?” Franky ominously repeated, glaring at Kosta.

Without a word and ignoring Maxine, Franky hopped down from the ropes and sped around the ring to Konquest. As she rounded the corner, Kosta hopped down. 

“You wanna go, you dumb bitch? Let’s do this!” Kosta goaded, sliding her sleeves up to her elbows, much to the blood-thirsty crowd’s amusement. 

Just as Franky was about to throw a charged punch, Bea pulled her back by the waist and away from Kosta. 

“Let me at her, Bea,” Franky growled, trying to break free. “She deserves what’s coming to her.” 

“Well, well, well, aren’t you the pair?” Kosta mocked. “The loony and the straight jacket! Add the freak of nature and you’ve got the complete cuckoo’s nest.” 

Already fuming with pent up anger, Kosta’s comments were the final straw. Bea let go of Franky, grabbed Kosta by the shirt and punched her face twice. 

“Next time,” Bea menacingly threatened after pulling her closer, “I highly suggest you watch what you say about anyone and start showing some respect. Won’t cost you anything, Kosta.” 

In pain, Kosta tried to speak but Bea interrupted her, continuing. 

“And since you're not really in a position to argue, I’ll state for the record that it was _your face_ that repeatedly moved towards _my fist_ ,” Bea wickedly smiled. “I expect an apology for that, too.” 

\--------------

Celebrating the shortest match in Empire history back in the locker room, Franky was animatedly acting out the fight in front of Maxine, who was sitting on the bench watching her.

“And you came in like a thunderclap!” Franky remarked ecstatically, shadow boxing in place as she dodged an imaginary Lucy and halted her body hook mid-air. “And when she charged off the ropes towards you, with full momentum, _pfft_ I knew she was a goner.”

In slow motion, Franky dramatically wound her upper body to her right side in her interpretation of Maxine, then flung her right fist through the imaginary head. 

“ _Boom_. She was out,” Franky narrated with finality. “That’ll teach everyone not to mess with us.” 

“But it didn’t just do that, Franky,” Maxine explained with a sigh. “I appreciate you both for trying to defend me, I do, but you shouldn’t have gone over there. Now, on top of everything, Bea has to deal with Sonia, too.” 

“Technically, we didn’t break any of her rules and everything else is in the grey zone. Especially when Kosta started it,” Franky shrugged.

“You _know_ that doesn't matter,” Maxine countered. 

“ _Anyways_ ,” Franky dragged out, “Gidge’s helping Bea navigate Sonia’s murky waters and speaking of waters,” Franky pointed to Maxine, then to another direction, “I need to use the bathroom.” She walked past the lockers to the designated space in the back of the room, leaving Maxine to remove her wraps in silence. 

A blonde blur in her periphery caught Maxine’s eye. She tilted her head towards the door as she waited for the movement to occur again. 

“Allie, is that you?” Maxine called out. 

Allie peeked her head, “Yeah, it’s me, sorry.” She stepped into the locker room, lingering by the doorway. “I know my presence is unwanted and I wasn’t sure if you were alone,” Allie nervously explained. “Is it possible for me to talk to you?” 

Maxine avoided looking towards the bathroom and smiled at Allie.

“Of course, come in.” Allie walked closer to Maxine and sat on the bench beside her. 

“That was a really solid win out there, by the way, quick and clean,” she praised as Maxine thanked her. Allie paused as she contemplated her thoughts then shifted her body towards Maxine. 

“Look, about what Marie said earlier... I understand how it sounded to you, and especially to Bea. No one needs to actually spell out anything for two and two to be put together and I…” Allie sighed. “I know there’s no proof, no evidence I could show you that will make you, or Bea, believe that I didn’t know about the fight and that I really wasn’t spying. All I have is just my word and I know it means nothing right now but it’s everything I’ve got,” she hopelessly shrugged, then continued. “Franky made her distrust of me very clear and I respect her being upfront about it. But she has no reason to distrust me cause I would never intentionally hurt Bea. If I were to ever get close to Bea, it would never be because I wanted to spy, but because I genuinely feel a certain way towards her. I thought I knew happiness, but it was only when I met Bea that I was properly introduced to it. And I can't get enough of her.” 

“I believe you,” Maxine said simply after a moment. 

“You do?” Allie looked at her with surprise. “I mean, which part?” 

“All of it; I see you. I know that you have feelings for her, that you wouldn’t hurt her and I _especially_ know that you are not a spy,” Maxine bumped her shoulder. “You’d make a terrible spy, by the way. You wear your heart on your sleeve.” 

“That obvious, huh?” Allie let out a chuckle then bit her lip to keep the smile from growing. “It’s not like I can help it, now can I?” 

Her smile withered as she remembered how Bea now felt about her and sighed. “It doesn't matter now because Bea can’t stand to see me. We were supposed to train tomorrow but she told me not to bother showing up.” 

Maxine squinted her eyes in thought and then turned to look at Allie. 

“Have you got your phone on you?” Allie nodded, then using her left hand, pulled out her phone from her back pocket, unlocked it and handed it Maxine. “This…” Maxine said slowly, adding a new contact to Allie’s phone, “is my number and this…” she stalled, adding another contact, “is Bea’s.” She handed the phone back to Allie and gave her a determined look. “Here’s what we’re going to do.” 

As Maxine explained the details of the plan, Allie nodded her head, following along. After a short while, a wide smile adorned Allie’s face. Before getting up and leaving, she thanked Maxine for her belief, support, and the renewed optimism she had given her. 

“You can come out now,” Maxine called out to Franky. A loud flush preceded Franky’s reappearance. “Did you hear all that?” 

Franky walked to the sink to wash her hands. “I did.” 

“Good, because you’re going to help.” 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Short note this time. 
> 
> 1\. Sorry, not sorry ;) 
> 
> 2\. Back to my lair, I go. 
> 
> 3\. Thank you for reading! 
> 
> -7B


End file.
